Page 121 of Love Is: Two Bodies One Soul

ChapterForty-Seven

‘Mr Kingsley,you ought to go home.’ Disoriented after a sleepless night, Owen looked up at the nurse.

‘I’d prefer to stay.’

‘The doctor told you last night, there’s nothing for you to do for a day or so. Little Emily will sleep for that long at least.’

Irritated by the patronising tone, Owen said. ‘She’s in a sodding coma, not having a bloody nap.’

‘Now then,’ the nurse who was Welsh like him said, ‘I know you’re upset, of course, you are, I understand, but there’s no need to take that sort of tone with me. Your little girl is in a coma. That’s correct. But it is induced and for her own good. It will reduce the chance of further brain damage. I thought the doctor explained all this to you last night?’

‘He did, and I’m sorry.’ Owen hung his head.

‘Of course you are.’ The nurse softened. ‘You must be in torment right now, but there’s nothing you can do except wait, and that would be best done at home with people who love you.’

Owen thought of Lexie and realised he hadn’t phoned her in the horror of all that had happened. She must be in hell, wondering where he was. How could he have put her out of his mind for so long? He patted his pocket for his phone. It wasn’t there. He remembered then – he’d dropped it at the accident site. It had probably been crushed by a number twenty-four bus by now.

‘We’ll call you if there’s any change,’ the nurse was saying. ‘Can I have a number to reach you on?’

Without thinking, he rattled off the number at the Hampstead house, his old marital home. Of course, there was no marital home now. He didn’t have a wife, not even an ex-one. She was dead, but his name was still on the deeds for the house in Hampstead. He still had keys to the front door. Technically, it was his home.

Only vaguely aware of his actions, Owen stumbled out of the hospital. He stepped into a taxi, and thirty minutes later, he was standing in the hallway of the stylish red-brick villa in Antrim Road. The house was totally silent. No sign of the nanny. Perhaps she had gone home for the Christmas holiday. No sign of Margaret, but then she was in the morgue. No sign of Emi – she was in the hospital in limbo. She might live and be brain damaged, she could die and … Owen closed his eyes tight – he could not face the prospect of life without Emi. He’d given everything for her, and he would do it again and again.

Owen moved from room to room – it felt like he was searching – but for what? Then it hit him. It was Lex. He should speak to her now. He’d left it too long already. Owen moved back to the front room where the phone was, and then, hand raised above the receiver, he stopped. A terrible thought had struck him. The nurse had used the words, “further brain damage”. His perfectly beautiful and bright child was brain damaged. Had the doctor mentioned this fact last night? He couldn’t remember, but if it were true and he married Lex and Emi survived — came out of the coma — then Lex would be left with the responsibility of caring for Emi after his death. It was so obvious. Why hadn’t he realised it sooner? He was older than Lex and had hardly taken care of his body. Over the years, it had seemed increasingly expendable. Chances were his liver was already damaged. It was certain he would die before Lex, leaving her in the latter part of her life to care for a brain-damaged adult child. Owen recoiled at the thought. He couldn’t inflict that future on his Lex. Better to let her go now.

He picked up the phone and pressed the keys for George’s number.

---