A Lone Angel

He stares into her eyes without smiling. When his sturdy gaze doesn’t flinch, she sucks in the air and waits, aware that when they call you to the hospital in the middle of the night, the outlook is poor. The deluge has left her soaked and she allows the drips to pour down her face; a veil to disguise the tears.

“Please, Olivia, take a seat,” the doctor says, obviously conversant in the delivery of bad news. “I’m sorry but your father passed away… Would you like to see him?”

How she ends up in the waiting room, she doesn’t remember. Nor the moment Katie arrives. She is just there, with an arm around the shoulder, comforting. Hunched, the metronomic action soothes–back, forth, back, forth–and she prays it is a bad dream she can wake up from. 

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Olivia?” says Katie soothingly.

“Hmm.” Olivia raises her head.

A nurse and a doctor. Two compassionate faces. It is definitely happening. Her dad has died.

“I’m okay.”

“You go home. There is nothing to be done tonight. We’ll speak tomorrow. Is there anyone we can call?”

“No one, but thank you.” 

***

Clip! Clip! Clip!

She totters, attempting to prevent her footsteps from disturbing the weary patients searching for comfort between the crisp sheets that languish on the metal beds. Why did she pick those shoes? A waft of bleach hits when a nurse rushes past and enters the ward that only minutes earlier she has left. 

You’re too late, Florence, he’s dead.

By the vending machine, an urgent need to discard the weight pushing on her chest strikes. When she cannot dislodge it, Katie steps in and passes over the paper bag stored inside the backpack, allowing Olivia to set to work. With shaking hands, she holds it over her mouth and listens as Katie’s dulcet tones begin their magic. In… Out… In… Out…. The unease diminishes, but she knows that only by escaping the building’s confines will it disappear completely. Time to find some courage.

They all died there, in that building. Each arrived ‘to be checked out’ but ended up being sucked through the sliding doors and joining the one-way system towards death. Her mum, Grandad Joe, and sister. Of course, dad would die there too. 

They admitted him after his stroke, against her wishes. 

Don’t take him into the monster’s mouth, it won’t end well. 

But she was powerless and now stuck. Although, it’ll be okay because with Katie present, a strength flows and together they will defeat the place.  

Olivia’s chances of resuming work still look slim. If she can’t cope with being in the hospital for a few minutes, then how can she undertake an eight-hour shift? Nursing was once a vocation. Now, the very thought of doing that job fills her with dread. The thought of doing anything fills her with dread.

Thank God for her sister. She pops up whenever things become tough and helps her through when the darkness bites. Without her, she would have succumbed and let the shadows devour their prey. These days, as she looks in the mirror, she loathes the sight before her. The blonde curls that draped across her shoulder are gone, replaced by a severe bob cut Katie deemed necessary after anger invaded Olivia’s thoughts whilst the scissors were in her hand. With protruding cheekbones and emaciated flesh, she’s earned herself a starring role in a zombie movie, with no makeup and people used to remark that she was pretty. She’s an embarrassment who needs putting down.

She tried that once. Just after her mum…. 

***

Her death was unexpected. Heart attack and gone in an instant. Olivia was on duty when they wheeled her in. They tried resuscitation, probably because she insisted on it. They failed. As the machine’s one note beep played its tune, she stepped in. 

Stop with your selfishness. Don’t leave me. Not now.

Request ignored, her mum departed. It took two of them to coax her away.

“She’s gone, Olivia,” said a gentle voice.

She smiles at the irony of empathising with relatives and realising that, in certain situations, nurses are nothing more than call centre workers following a script. 

You have no clue how I feel and you’re not sorry for my loss.

They can’t wait for her to leave and remove the sadness that was so annoying. Is that the impression she gave out to the families?

Don’t worry, I won’t burst into tears.

***

Growing up, it was just the three of them, mum, Olivia, and her sister. Dad was a nomad who didn’t settle anywhere for too long. His job meant he moved often, which wasn’t conducive to family life. When they started school, they settled down. It was amicable, the divorce, and dad visited when his travels allowed. He returned home as soon as she broke the news. He loved them. His presence failed to help the emptiness.

As Olivia shook the bottle, the pills cascaded across the table. When the condensation from the glass dripped, her finger formed patterns through the puddle it created. This was her mum’s fault. Why did she leave when no preparations were made? Not to worry, she will reunite with her soon and those questions can be answered.

Dad returned before she had time to swallow the first one. Damn him! Years of not being there for specific events, and he managed a prompt arrival for that one. She should have laughed between the tears.

Neither of them left her alone after that. Katie even accompanied her when she showered. It was understandable; they loved her and another loss was unthinkable, so she took the Prozac and brightened somewhat.

If one more person said that her mum’s death happened in order for dad to be present when Grandad Joe passed, she would have screamed. They meant it well, but….

He was 90 and you expect it at that age and although shock manifested; it wasn’t as brutal. Olivia stayed in the car at first, afraid those heavy legs wouldn’t hold her weight. Dad, torn between his responsibilities, waited with her, but she could see he was eager to get inside. Why willingly enter the jaws of death? Madness. If he missed the opportunity for goodbyes, she would never have forgiven herself, but that thought still didn’t persuade her to move. Katie arrived, instructed him to go, and climbed into the drivers’ seat.

“Olivia. Come on, let’s say goodbye.”

She sensed her irritation, so with a deep breath, succumbed. It was a miracle that they made it in time.

They buried him alongside mum. They were company for each other, and the knowledge she was no longer alone in the ethers comforted her. She wasn’t ready to return to work, but maybe attempting to live a little was needed.

The bosses recommended therapy. She was still on sick leave, but they required the management to tick boxes, so, after a promise they would not hold the sessions within the hospital, she agreed and endured the awkward silences whilst the therapist waited for a response.

I’m grieving, Doc. Go away!

“Would you prefer to write your responses? Will that make it easier?” he asked.

She nodded, humouring him.

Whether it was the therapy or simply because time had moved on, Olivia awoke to discover a shaft of light had parked itself inside the corner of her brain. It gave her the courage to shower, dress, and eat breakfast. Such a beautiful day deserved to be enjoyed. Mum and Grandad Joe would have a visit.

“You’re up and about,” Katie said.

“Off to the cemetery. Do you want to come?” she asked.

“Can’t I have to work. Will you be okay on your own?” 

Olivia threw her arms around her, squeezed, held on.

“What?” her sister mumbled from underneath.

“Nothing,” she grinned.

“Love you,” Katie yelled, picking up her bag and departing.

Although the sun sat high and burned, a chill emanated through her. The neglected tall gravestones and badly damaged mausoleums that had once been great memorials were now blemishes on the landscape that refused to allow the warmth in. Would her mum’s grave end up like that one day, unloved and forgotten?

                           Denise Cooper. 54 years old.

                           Wife, Mum, Daughter. Taken too soon.

                           Joe Cooper. 90 years old.

                           Brother, Dad, Grandad. Forever Loved.

“Good morning, Mum. Grandad.” 

As she shook the blanket and laid it down, a blackbird tweeted its approval. Was that an acknowledgement of their pleasure at seeing her?

***

The ringing pierced her brain as she entered.

“Coming, coming,” she yelled, dumping everything onto the floor.

“Hello.”

“Liv, where have you been? You haven’t been answering your mobile.” 

“Sorry, Dad. I switched it off as I was at the cemetery. Katie knew. You should have called her.”

“There’s been an accident….”

***

It wasn’t an instant death. Her sister fought but, with no strength to resist, she lost and became the next victim. With head lowered, Olivia focussed on her shoes. The nurse was patient as she accompanied her into the Intensive Care Unit. The walk was fractious, but she made it in time. Afterwards, the chunk of light retreated, and the darkness edged back in.

Just two of them now and with the desire for life diminished again, she festered in bed.

“Olivia, let’s take a walk.” Dad tried, but with his sallow complexion and hunched gait, he’d lost his sparkle. She didn’t notice–not until it was pointed out.

“Hi,” Katie simply appeared.

With a gasp, Olivia pulled the cover over her head and sucked in some air before peeking out.

“Dad’s grieving too,” she continued, “and he doesn’t look well.”

Whilst leaning against her shoulder and breathing in the aroma of No 5, the question of how she came to be there wasn’t asked.

“I’ve missed you,” was all Olivia mumbled.

“I know,” her sister replied. “I’m here to bring you back, to persuade you that life is worth living. To open your eyes.”

They say stress can be a factor for strokes, so Olivia knows it’s her fault. The pressure that her selfish attitude put him under overwhelmed. Katie should have pointed it out. Now home, she has vanished, again. Angry, probably. But she will return, won’t she?

***

With three funerals behind her already organising another should have been straightforward, but Olivia was struggling. With no one else available to discuss options, decisions were hard, so Katie’s reappearance was well-timed.

“Dad says you need to keep things simple. Obviously, he’s going to join our plot at the cemetery, so a basic coffin is adequate.”

“Thanks, Sis.”

                                Denise Cooper. 54 years old.

                                Wife, Mum, Daughter. Taken too soon.

                                Joe Cooper. 90 years old.

                                Brother, Dad, Grandad. Forever Loved.

                                Katie Cooper. 24 years old. 

                                Daughter. Sister. Always In Our Hearts.

Katie sticks like glue and doesn’t waiver, even when Auntie Mary moves in for a hug and invades her space. She is reliable and necessary and stands her ground.

With everyone departing, the cemetery returns to normal and the respected hush resurfaces to honour the sleeping residents.

“I need you to stay, Katie,” she states as they walk towards the funeral cars.

“I will, but your fragility scares me. Life is precious. What I wouldn’t give ....”

***

Olivia removes the eye mask, reaches for her mobile and squints as the brightness irritates. 10:15am. She hauls the quilt over her head. With no work to get up for, she may as well stay put. As she vowed to never step foot inside the hospital again, she resigned.

The tapping on her shoulder increases, so she drags herself up with a cry of ‘What!’

“Time to rise, Liv. The day is passing you by,” her sister says.

“Go away,” Olivia responds.

“This is the reason I need your help, Dad.” Katie replied.

“Olivia Cooper, you need to live. We are teaming up. Between us, we will rediscover your light, no matter how long that takes.”

“Dad? You’re here.”

With her dad nestled on one side and Katie on the other, Olivia sighs. For now, she would give life a chance because that is what they desire for her. For now.