Shattered Hope

Faye sat twisting a damp tissue. Every now and then she would dab at her eyes with the soggy tissue before twisting it again, wringing it between her hands as if trying to squeeze out the dampness.  After a few minutes the tissue would start to fall apart and Faye would throw what was left of it into the bin beside her, and grab another tissue from the box on a small coffee table in front of her.

Opposite her, on the other side of the coffee table, sat an older man. After watching her for several minutes he stood up and took a few small steps across the room to a water cooler. He grabbed a flimsy plastic cup and pressed it against a grubby white lever that would release the water. He turned, about to walk back to his seat but then stopped. He looked across at Faye briefly then turned back to the water cooler and took a second cup. Walking back across the room he didn’t immediately go to his seat. Instead he stopped in front of Faye and offered her the second cup of water. She lifted her head and, with great effort, managed a half smile, but rather than reach out for the cup she shook her head, a slight, almost imperceptible movement, before lowering her eyes.  The man hesitated for a moment then sat down next to Faye.

“I’m Ian.”

Faye ignored him. Not out of rudeness or insolence, nor out of deafness. She heard him but her brain hadn’t registered he was talking to her. It was as if his voice had come from a television or radio somewhere else in the room. 

Ian placed both cups of water on the table, then reached over and gently prised the tissue out of her hand.

“You’re giving the floor dandruff,” he smiled.

Faye looked at him, perplexed.

Ian nodded at the floor in front of her feet, which was now littered with tiny specks of tissue. “The carpet looks like it’s got dandruff.”

His voice was soft and quiet. Calming. For the first time Faye smiled a genuine, albeit brief, smile. 

“I’m Ian,” he said again.

“Faye.”

For a moment they both sat in silence. Faye sniffed and rubbed her hands under her eyes. She took yet another tissue from the box and blew her nose. Ian reached for the cups of water, again offering one to Faye. This time she took it with a grateful smile and took a small sip.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed. “It’s just...”

“I understand.”

Faye looked at him as if he couldn’t possibly understand what she was feeling.

“I do,” Ian continued. “My daughter,” he nodded in the general direction of the corridor. “She...” He stopped.

A pang of guilt stabbed Faye. She had been so selfish. This man was hurting as much as she was. She placed a hand gently over his.

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiled at her, a sentiment of thanks and shared pain.

“What...” Faye began, not quite sure how to phrase the question.

Ian shrugged his shoulders and shook his head ruefully.

“I’m not really sure. Her husband called and just told me she was in the hospital and I should get down there as quickly as possible.”

“Oh. Where’s?”

“Not sure. They split up a couple of day ago. Hannah moved in with me but I guess he’s still her next of kin.”

“That’s terrible. Is her husband coming here? Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s all right. Hannah is pretty upset by it all but I think Simon’s hoping for a clean break. I don’t think he’ll be here.”

Faye squeezed his hand tighter. The physical contact felt good and for a moment she wondered if he was married. He was older than her, probably as much as ten years older but...

Suddenly she realised where her thoughts were going and a tinge of red coloured her otherwise pale face. How could she be thinking like that now?

“My son,” she said, bringing her thoughts back where they belonged. “He’s been involved in an accident.”

“How bad?”

“I’m not sure.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen.”

“Is he fit? Healthy?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Then there’s every chance he’ll pull through.”

“Thank you.”

He put his spare hand over hers, sandwiching it between his.

“You’re welcome.”

Ian wondered if they would see each other again after today. If both their children recovered but needed to spend time in the hospital maybe he would see Faye at visiting times. Would he ever see her outside of the hospital?

The door of the waiting room opened and both Ian and Faye stood up quickly. Two women stood by the door, both dressed professionally. Were they doctors? Ian didn’t think they looked like doctors, but they didn’t look like anxious relatives either. They were too composed. Faye sat back down, not quite sure what was about to happen but with a sense of doom looming. Were they hospital officials come to tell her bad news?

“Mrs Spencer?” One of them asked.

Faye’s heart started beating faster. Beads of perspiration broke out on her arms and her forehead. She couldn’t open her mouth to speak so she just nodded. The two women took a few steps forward. They reached inside their pockets and each pulled out a small black folded wallet, which they opened up.

“I’m DI Taylor, this is DS Lynes. May we ask you a few questions?”

Faye was still unable to speak. Ian sat down beside her and laid a comforting hand over hers. “What’s this about?” he asked

DI Taylor turned her attention to Ian.

“May I ask who you are Sir?”

“I don’t see why that matters.”

“Please Sir, just answer the question.”

“Ian Byrne.”

“May I ask what your relationship to Mrs Spencer is?”

“Relationship. I don’t have a relationship. I only met her about ten minutes ago.”

“And what are you doing here?”

Ian’s voice went up a notch, both in volume and pitch. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Sir, please. Just answer the question.”

For a moment it looked as if Ian was going to protest further. Then he slumped back and mumbled “My daughter. I got a call to come here. I don’t know any more. I’ve been trying to find out but I was told to wait in here.”

“We’ll see if we can find out for you. What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Hannah. Hannah Barker.”

Both women exchanged glances, something Ian was quick to pick up on.

“What? What is it?”

“Perhaps you should come outside with me,” DI Taylor suggested. “DS Lynes can continue talking to Mrs Spencer.”

“Why? Why do I have to come outside? Can’t you tell me in here?”

“I think it would be best if you come outside Sir.”

Faye finally found her voice. “It’s OK.” She pulled her hand out from underneath his and gently tapped it. “Just go with them.”

She watched them go. For some reason she didn’t want to take her eyes of Ian. 

“Mrs Spencer.”

She continued to watch them as they stood outside wishing she could lip read. 

“Mrs Spencer.”

What did they want with Ian? And why was she so concerned?

“Mrs Spencer.” Without raising her voice, DS Lynes managed to put more emphasis in the name, make it sound firmer, more urgent. It finally resonated with Faye and she moved her eyes to the detective’s face. 

“What do you want to know?

Faye started twisting her hands back and forth, the same motion she’d adopted earlier, only there was no tissue between her hands now.

“Do you know where your son was going this afternoon Mrs Spencer?”

Faye shook her head.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“About two days ago.”

“He doesn’t live with you?”

“Yes, but he was staying at a friend’s house. He was doing that a lot lately.”

“What friend?”

Faye sunk further back in her chair, wishing it would swallow her up.

“I don’t know.”

“You said he was staying out quite a bit recently?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t know where?”

“No. He is nineteen.”

“Mrs Spencer, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Has Craig done something wrong?”

“Why? Do you think he has done something wrong?”

“No, but all these questions.”

“We’re just trying to establish the facts.”

“Facts. I’ll tell you a fact,” Faye sobbed. “My son is back there,” she waved her hand hazily in the air, “fighting for his life while you…”

The tears gushed out. DS Lynes handed her a couple of tissues from the table, but they did little against the tide flowing down her face.

DS Lynes sat down next to Faye. “I am sorry to have to ask these questions,” she said “But it is important. Your son was involved in a very serious accident and we need to establish how and why it happened.”

“You think Craig was to blame?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But that’s what you think. That’s what you’re trying to prove.”

DS Lynes looked out to where her superior and Ian were still chatting. Faye followed her eyes. Ian looked different somehow. His face was harder. She wanted to comfort him. 

DS Lynes looked back at Faye. The agony in her face was obvious. This was one part of the job she hated, interviewing distressed relatives. But she had to do it.

Mrs Spencer, we’re just trying to work out who was responsible and if it was deliberate.”

DS Lynes regretted the last part, but it was too late.

Faye’s head jerked up and her eyes opened wide.

“Deliberate! Whatever Craig is, whatever he has done, it would not have been deliberate. That much I do know.”

“But he does have points on his license for speeding.”

“Speeding. He was…”

The friend Mrs Spencer. Do you know what friend your son was staying with? We really do want to try and track his movements, establish a time line.”

“No, I don’t, that’s the truth. I think he might have a girlfriend but he hasn’t told me. He’s been very secretive.”

She sniffed and desperately tried to wipe away her tears. She took a deep breath but still the tears kept coming. 

Outside in the corridor Ian let out an agonising howl.

“No! No, I don’t believe it. It’s not true.”

He stormed off, away from the inspector. DS Lynes glanced outside then turned back to Faye.

“I think we’ll leave it there for now Mrs Spencer. Thank you.”

Ian returned five minutes later.

He sat down next to Faye. She reached across for his hand, but he snatched it away. 

Ian, what’s the matter.”

“It was the same accident. They were in the same accident.”

“Who were?”

“Your son and my Hannah.” They were quiet for a moment. Then Ian glared at Faye, hostility oozing from his eyes. “If she dies…”

“Oh Ian.” Again she reached for his hand and again he snatched it away, as if she had scalded him.

“It was an accident Ian.” She wondered who she was trying to convince. “I know he’s been caught speeding before. 

“So he does drive too fast.”

“No. It was thirty eight in a thirty mile limit…”

“It’s still speeding. My Hannah is laying there fighting for her life because of him.”

“And so is my son.” Tears spewed out of her eyes. She choked on her sobs; gulped in large breaths of air. She got up and moved away from Ian, sitting down on the opposite side of the room. “It’s not his fault.”

Ian looked across at her and opened his mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come. How could they? A short time ago he had been wondering, hoping even, they would see each other again and now. Now he couldn’t even bare to look at her, knowing what he knew.  He couldn’t even be in the same room as her. He got up and marched across to the door, yanking it open, and slamming it shut behind him. 

Fifteen minutes later a doctor walked in.

“Mrs Spencer?”

“Yes.” Faye stood up. Her heart pounded, each beat knocking the breath out of her lungs. She could barely breathe. She waited, wanting and not wanting to hear the news. The doctor removed his spectacles, further prolonging her agony. She wanted to read his face, see if she could see despair or relief in it but all she could read was tiredness.

“Your son is out of immediate danger,” the doctor began, “but his condition is still critical.”

“But he is going to be OK isn’t he?”

“It’s very hard to tell.”

“Can I see him?”

“For a few moments”

She started to follow the doctor out of the waiting room. “Doctor.” She put a hand on his arm. “Was Craig to blame?”

“I can’t really say, that’s for the police.”

“Please. I need to know.”

The doctor regarded her carefully for a moment. He saw the agony in her eyes.

“Don’t quote me, but as far as I know the other driver was drunk. Failed to stop at a red light and went straight into your son’s car.”

“So it wasn’t Craig’s fault?”

“I don’t believe so, but I can’t say for sure.”

As she followed the doctor down the corridor, she saw Ian. He was sat on the floor, his knees hunched up to his chest, his head in his hands. He looked up briefly as she walked past. Was that a flash of shame she saw in his eyes? She felt a pang of sadness for him. Craig’s recovery would be long. It was likely he would be in hospital for some time. She would make several visits during the coming days and weeks but she knew she wouldn’t see Ian again.