Chapter 15

Shortly after ten, we arrived at Mum’s room. She was asleep, and straight away, you could see she had a broken leg. Two tubes ran from under the sheet to drainage bags, one for urine and the other for draining blood. But from where? There was a drip in her arm, and electrical cables ran from her body to a machine monitoring her vital signs.

We sat with Dad on one side of the bed, holding her hand, while Ruby and I sat on the other, holding her other hand. Shortly, Dad pressed the call button to summon a nurse. A nurse arrived, and Dad asked, “How’s Chantelle? Can you tell me how she is, what op she had, and how long it will take for her to recover? Will she be okay?”

“Mr Erikson, let me get the doctor for you, and then he can explain everything.”

“Thank you.”

While we waited for the doctor, I excused myself and went to the nurse’s station and asked, “Can you please tell me what bed Riley Wilson-Smythe is in?”

The clerk typed his name into the computer and said, “He’s in room thirty-four, bed B.”

“Thank you.”

The room was easy to find, and bed A was empty. “Jess, what a surprise to see you.”

“You fucking arsehole. You were in the car with Mum last night, weren’t you? Most likely after fucking her brains out. We’re finished, you bastard.”

“No ... wait. Is your Mum in this hospital, too?”

I rolled my eyes and looked at the ceiling in disgust. “Don’t give me that crap. You know she is.”

“No, please ... give me a break. I fell asleep at the wheel on the way home last night and ended up here. Please, believe me. I’m telling the truth.”

“You’re a liar. You had sex with my Mum, and you were in her car.”

“Jess, please ... Let me prove I wasn’t in the car.”

“And what about the sex? You’re not denying that, are you? Piss off, we’re through.”

There was no point in arguing about this anymore, and I returned to Mum’s room to find her still asleep. Shortly after getting there, the doctor arrived.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Mathew Hurn, one of the medical doctors attached to the surgical ward.”

“Hello, doctor. I’m Sven Erikson, Chantelle’s husband, and our daughters, Jessica and Ruby. What can you tell me about Chantelle?”

“Can I talk to you in private?”

“No, whatever you say, our daughters need to know.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“After her examination and scans in ED, we found your wife had an internal bleed, a fractured hip, a broken leg and was approximately four to five weeks into her pregnancy. There was no choice but to operate to save her life, and had we not operated. Your wife would have bled out. The surgeons successfully stopped the bleeding, but she will need to undergo surgery again to repair her broken leg. I’m sorry to say the embryo did not survive.”

To hear Mum was pregnant had a profound shock on the three of us. Poor Dad. He put his hand on his forehead and walked in circles while Ruby and I stared at each other open-mouthed, not believing Mum had been expecting.

“Doc, is there any chance you could be mistaken about Chantelle being pregnant?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Erikson. I can see this news has taken you by complete surprise. Yes, your wife was pregnant. Did she not tell you?”

“No, we weren’t trying for another child. I’m absolutely shocked.”

“Your wife will spend up to two weeks here, and then she will be allowed home once she has regained her strength, actively working with the physios to regain her ability to walk.

“Your wife will need to use walking aids for up to three months, depending on her improvement. After that, she will walk around normally but may still have discomfort, and it could take up to twelve months for her hip to fully recover, possibly leaving her with a limp.

“Her broken leg will take around six to eight weeks to mend. Your wife will be sedated while in the hospital, leaving her very sleepy, and you may find it difficult to hold a conversation with her. We want her to be comfortable as she recovers from major surgery. Is there anything else you need to know?”

“Thanks, doctor. I don’t think so at the moment. Thank you for your time.”

“If there’s anything else I can do for you or your family, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

The doctor left, leaving the three of us alone with Mum when she stirred, her eyes fluttered before opening them.

“Chantelle, how do you feel?” Dad asked before leaning in and kissing her, and then Ruby and I kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m ... I’m feeling woozy and sleepy.”

“Okay, you rest, and we’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you ... you’re a good husband.”

We sat for a while watching Mum, her breathing slow and steady, when she suddenly opened her eyes and said, “Has the doctor seen you? What’s he telling you?”

“It’s okay. He’s told me everything, including you losing the baby. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

“Oh, I only found out on Monday, and I didn’t want to worry you until I got past the first trimester. And what’s happened to Michael?”

“Who’s Michael?”

“He’s a young guy from work who had too much to drink, and I told him I could drop him off on my way home. Is he okay?”

“Sorry, we didn’t know who he was, and the police wouldn’t tell me.”

Mmmm, I wonder. Is Michael a figment of Mum’s imagination, and she invented this story so she didn’t have to tell the truth? Protecting Riley and ensuring her affair remains confidential? Or did I jump to the wrong conclusion about who was with Mum in the car? Now I know why she was so cranky with me on Monday after finding out she was up the duff. The only question on my mind was. Was it Dad or Riley who put her in the pudding club?