Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

Waiting by a hospital bed, time loses all meaning. If the patient isn't eating, the hours aren't even punctuated by mealtimes. At least when Steve was really unwell, they'd managed to ease the minutes along with a crossword or Sudoku or, when he was too tired even to open his eyes, she'd read the letters of a Wordle aloud.

Without Sally there for company, the hours had dragged and she checked the time on her phone several times, willing the girls to arrive. She knew them both very well. When they were young, they used to be over at their house all the time. Now, of course, as Charlotte no longer lived at home, she hadn't seen them in months. If only this meeting were in better circumstances.

Because Charlotte was in a private room, the nurses had confirmed that they'd relax the usual two visitors rule. When there was a gentle knock on the door, Joanna was quick to let them in.

Rachael – blonde, beautiful and the most chaotic of their tribe of three – carried a helium balloon emblazoned with Get Well Soon. She held it out apologetically. ‘I felt like I needed to bring something.'

Joanna took it and tied it to the end of the bed, it's bright hopeful bobbing incongruous in this room. ‘Charlotte would love it.'

Lucy – whose gorgeous red hair always seemed at odds with her quiet studious nature – carried a basket of fruit and cereal bars. ‘These are for you. We thought you could use some sustenance while you were in here.'

Their kindness brought tears to Joanna's eyes and she had to turn away. How much Charlotte loved these two; the three of them had brought so much joy and laughter to her house. ‘You're so thoughtful. Please, come and sit down and talk to her.'

She realised how quickly she'd got used to seeing Charlotte like this when she saw the shock on their faces. Rachael's hand fluttered to her mouth and tears came immediately. ‘Oh.'

Lucy seemed more determined to be brave. ‘What shall we do? Can she hear us if we talk to her?'

‘The doctor says it's possible.'

Rachael's eyes were as round as dinner plates, she was frozen in place. ‘What shall we say?'

Joanna could understand her fear. The three of them shouldn't be here, they should be propping up a bar, or dancing at a night club or just hanging out in Charlotte's bedroom like the old days, cackling like a coven. ‘It doesn't matter, really. Just the sound of your voices will help. You can just chatter away about anything.'

Lucy took her friend by the hand. ‘Come on, Rach. You can talk to her about that bloke at the dry cleaners that you keep trying to chat up. You can do that for hours.'

Rachael's smile was grateful; she let Lucy lead her to the bedside where the nurse had kindly brought an extra two seats for them. Her bottom lip wobbled as she looked at her friend. ‘Hey Charlotte. It's me, Rachael.'

Lucy rolled her eyes at Joanna. Gosh, these girls were a breath of fresh air. ‘You're not going to believe what she did today, Charlotte. That cute guy in the dry cleaners, the one with the big brown eyes? She left her phone number in the pocket of her coat and then asked him if they check the pockets before they, you know, do the cleaning.'

For the next forty minutes, Joanna watched these remarkable girls talk to her daughter. Sometimes they faltered; at one point, Rachael started to cry and Lucy pulled her close for a tight hug while keeping up her commentary to Charlotte in a slightly broken voice. If ever she needed evidence of how amazing her daughter was, it was right here in this room. Only a special person would attract, and keep, two friends like these.

When they ran out of things to say, Lucy suggested music. ‘I'm pretty sure I saw it on a film once. And Charlotte loves music.'

Of course, why hadn't she thought of that? ‘That's a great idea.'

Lucy found something on her phone and they played it close to Charlotte's ear. They even tried singing along, but both of their voices gave way almost immediately. It was too hard.

Watching them reminded Joanna of something that DC Abbie had asked. ‘I don't suppose either of you know if Charlotte has lost her phone? The police couldn't find it at her flat.'

They both shook their heads. Lucy looked surprised. ‘That's really weird. She's always got her phone with her.'

Joanna had thought the same thing. ‘Had either of you heard from her on Sunday? Do you know where she'd been that day?'

Again, they both shook their heads. Rachael sighed. ‘To be honest, we haven't seen that much of her the last few weeks. She always seems to be busy with Freddie. I wish I'd pushed to see her.'

Her bottom lip wobbled and her eyes filled with tears. Joanna didn't want to upset them. ‘It's okay, love. None of us knew this was going to happen.'

When they got up to go, both of them gave Joanna the tightest of hugs. Then Rachael needed to find the ladies before they left.

Lucy glanced at her watch. ‘I'll wait with Joanna while you go.'

In the quiet, they both looked at Charlotte. Lucy's voice was softer than it had been when she was talking to Charlotte. ‘I can't believe this has happened.'

‘I know. It's surreal. Sometimes it doesn't seem possible that that's Charlotte lying there.'

Chewing on her lip, Lucy nodded. ‘I've never seen her so still for so long.'

Joanna had to smile at that. It was true that Charlotte was always on the go, dashing here and there, organising everyone. Even watching her lying there, she could imagine that – any moment – she was going to jump up, pull out the wires and ask them why they were all staring at her. ‘I wish I'd done more. I wish I'd managed to stop her from seeing him.'

Lucy was shaking her head. ‘I just can't believe that Freddie would've hurt her. He worships the ground she walks on. I mean, really . I know people say that, but he really does.'

What seems a good thing in your early twenties can sound like a red flag from the perspective of three decades away. ‘You mean he was obsessive? Jealous?'

Lucy shook her head. ‘No. Not like that. He was gentle. It's just, I don't know, we used to laugh about the look he got on his face whenever she was around. Like he'd won the lottery or something.'

Joanna remembered Steve saying something similar when Freddie and Charlotte were first an item. The brief times they'd seen the two of them together, he'd certainly given the appearance that he was besotted with her. But that hadn't prevented him from breaking her heart. ‘But he let her down so badly. I still don't understand why she'd give him a second chance.'

Lucy stared down at her brown boots. ‘I know you didn't want her to be with him. Charlotte told us. But it was just one kiss with another girl. He made a mistake. He was so sorry. Charlotte forgave him so we did, too.'

Sometimes sorry wasn't good enough. Lucy and Rachael were away travelling for most of that dark and terrible year. They hadn't seen how long it took Charlotte to get over him the first time. ‘The thing is, Lucy, I know how boys like that behave. I went to school with boys like that. Rich kids who are used to getting what they want. Entitled and arrogant. Their lives are very different from the rest of us.'

Lucy looked up. ‘Charlotte didn't see it that way. She said they were the same. I mean, as people. Although some of his friends were like you just described. Particularly that Dominic.'

This was the first time Joanna had heard the name Dominic. ‘Who's he?'

Lucy's face left her in no doubt what her feelings were about the man. ‘He's Freddie's best mate. Likes to throw money around. It was his fault they split up the first time, trying to get Freddie to hook up with other girls. And he was really weird around Charlotte.'

No, Joanna wanted to say, Freddie was the one who hooked up with another girl. It was his fault. But she was more interested in the last thing Lucy said. ‘Weird how?'

‘I don't know. Sometimes he would be all smarmy and creepy, like he was chatting her up. Other times he'd be snarky and mean. Sometimes he would just stare at her. I don't know how she could bear it.'

Fear rose in Joanna's chest. She reached down to Charlotte's arm and stroked it. ‘What did Freddie say about it?'

‘I don't know that he really noticed. Charlotte never said anything to him. She said he was just jealous. It didn't bother her.'

The most difficult part of having a daughter is living in fear of her being vulnerable around men. From the time Charlotte first started going to bars and nightclubs, her last words to her had always been about keeping her hand over her drink, staying with her friends, calling her dad rather than taking a taxi home alone. But once she'd left home, all she could do was hope that they'd done enough that she knew how to keep herself safe when she was out. How ironic that it hadn't been when she was out that they should've worried about.

Something else occurred to her. ‘Did you know that Charlotte was pregnant?'

Lucy's hands flew to her face; her gasp made it clear that she hadn't known a thing about it. ‘What? Pregnant? Are you sure?'

‘Very sure. And very surprised. So, she didn't talk to you about it?'

On the one hand, she was glad that Lucy shook her head. It didn't feel so bad to have been kept out of the loop if she hadn't even told her closest friends. Then again, she'd never known Charlotte to keep a secret from Lucy and Rachael in her life. Had she not been happy about the pregnancy? Had that been the subject of the argument that the neighbour had overheard?

Lucy was still shaking her head. ‘I can't believe it. Why wouldn't she have told me? And Rachael. We're her best friends.'

Joanna didn't want to make Lucy feel as bad as she did about it. ‘I think they must've wanted to keep it to themselves. Maybe they were waiting to do a big Instagram reveal or something?' She forced herself to sound as if their secrecy wasn't tearing her apart, too.

Lucy seemed to be mollified and then Rachael reappeared from the toilet, the redness of her eyes making it obvious that she'd been crying. Her own heart aching, she pulled the two of them into another hug before they left, blowing kisses to Charlotte from the door and promising to come again soon.

Once they'd gone, the room felt even more empty of life. Her chair scraped across the floor as she pulled it closer to the bed, to Charlotte. ‘That was nice, wasn't it, love? I'm so lucky you always had such nice friends.'

And she had been lucky. When other people talked about the problems their daughters had with their friendship groups – fallings out, silent treatment, snippy text messages – she and Steve had thanked the gods of friendship that Charlotte had Rachael and Lucy. Even her early boyfriends had been nice boys – polite, kind, treating her well.

Was that the problem? Everyone in Charlotte's life had been too similar, too safe? Is that why she'd been attracted by someone like Freddie Knight-Crossley? And who was this creepy Dominic that Lucy had spoken about?

She fired off a quick text update to Sally. It was surprising how adamant she'd been about coming back tonight. She knew how difficult it was for Harry if there was a break in his routine. Was this small argument with Graham a lot bigger than she was making out? Though Sally wouldn't want to worry her at the moment, she didn't like to think that her friend was upset about something and not telling her.

She was so lucky to have Sally. Good friends got you through the worst that life threw at you. Seeing Charlotte's friends and their love for her was a reminder that she'd had so much in her life, so much to live for.

A wave of exhaustion washed over her and, still sitting beside the bed, she closed her eyes for a few moments. She knew the doctor had said that Charlotte's prognosis wasn't good, but he didn't know her daughter. He didn't know the strength of character, the stubbornness, the passion for life that she had. Seeing her friends here with her this evening had reminded her of that. If anyone was going to come round from this, her daughter was.

She must've dozed off in the chair, because she was jolted awake by a loud alarm, piercing the air around her. Shrill beeps joined it. Then more. Until it was a cacophony of sounds. People started to appear from everywhere. What was going on?

Fear shook every ounce of sleep from her. Almost knocked out of the way by a nurse who was checking the ventilator, terrified by the look on the faces of the people around her, she tried to catch on to what they were saying. Amidst all the medical jargon, nothing made sense. ‘What's happening? Please tell me. What's going on?'

One of the younger nurses took her by the elbow and tried to lead her away. ‘You need to come outside, Mrs Woodley. Let the medical team do their job.'

Carts were being wheeled in, complicated equipment produced from within them. Everyone's face was serious and focused. She wasn't going anywhere. ‘No, I can't leave her. I need to be here.'

A doctor was opening Charlotte's eyelids, shining a torch into them. Again the nurse tried to persuade her to leave. ‘They need room to work. We can wait outside and then?—'

‘Get the mother out of here!'

She wasn't sure which doctor had shouted that at her, but she allowed the nurse to lead her outside and take her to the small room at the end of the corridor from which, like a recurring nightmare, she never seemed to escape.