Chapter 30

I wasn’t in the room when Cal came out of her stupor, that’s how the doctor described it, a catatonic stupor, Mary was there alone while Sandy and I went down to the cafeteria for some lunch, and then on to the orthopaedics department for her appointment. I was sitting outside the x-ray room when my phone chirped.

It was a text from Aunt Mary, “SHE’S AWAKE.”

“GREAT,” I texted back, “WE’RE IN X-RAY. BE THERE ASAP.”

“X-RAY????”

“EXPLAIN LATER.”

I’d just sent the last text when Sandy was wheeled out of the X-Ray room and we headed back to the department. There we were told that the X-Rays were good and that when we came back on the twenty-seventh, the casts would come off and she’d be referred to Physio for rehab and to the plastics guys, as the doctor described them, to see about repairing the damage to her face. We thanked the doctor and wandered back to Cal’s room.

I don’t know why I expected to find her sitting up and talking, but I had. I was disappointed. She was still lying flat, her head now on two pillows instead of one, but still connected to a drip and the monitoring equipment.

“Hi,” she said weakly as we closed the door behind us.

“Welcome back,” I said with a smile, “you had us worried.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“There’s no need,” Sandy assured her, “we were worried about you.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “Mum, can you give us a few minutes alone?”

“Of course, darling,” Aunt Mary replied, “I’ll go and find something to eat.”

She left and we sat down, one either side of the bed.

“David, Sandra,” Cal began, “I want to apologise to you both. I know that you were looking forward to a nice family Christmas, and I went and spoiled it. I seem to be good at that where David is concerned.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but Sandy held up a hand, stopping me.

“Cal,” she began, “you made mistakes, we all have. I made my biggest one when I was fifteen, but I’ll tell you about that some other time. Tell me something, do you love David?”

She looked at Sandy with a strange faraway expression.

“Yes,” she replied, “yes I do.”

“And do you think David loves you?” Sandy asked.

“I don’t see how he could after the way, the ways, I’ve hurt him.”

“And yet, I think he does,” Sandy said.

Again I opened my mouth to say something, but Sandy silenced me.

“What do you want to happen?” she asked, “between you and David?”

“My biggest wish is for us to get married and have children,” Cal replied.

“And how much do you actually love David?” Sandy asked.

“With all my heart, totally,” she said.

“And these children,” Sandy continued, “how much will you love them?”

“I’ll love them with all my heart too,” was the answer.

“And how will you do that?” Sandy asked, “if you already love David with all your heart, how will you also love your first child with all the same heart? And what if you have more than one? Do you have multiple hearts?”

“Well, no of course not,” Cal said, “Uncle James doesn’t love Aunt Pat any less because he also loves his three children and he doesn’t love Andy any less because they also have David and Alison.”

I thought that I could see the point that Sandy was making but wasn’t sure quite where she was heading with it.

“Tell you what, David,” Sandy said, “why don’t you go and get a coffee while Cal and I have a little girly time.”

“Girly time?” I asked.

“Yes, you know, so we can pull you apart and criticise your performance as a boyfriend.”

If there’s one thing that the two of them, together with Charlie and even Kathy, have taught me, it’s that she’s in charge. Regardless of who ‘she’ is. I left for the cafeteria.

Cal’s mother was still eating when I got there, so I got myself a coffee and walked over and sat down opposite her. She looked at me quizzically.

“They sent me down for a coffee while they have some ‘girly time’,” I explained.

“Oh dear,” she replied, “that sounds ominous. And interesting.”

She refused to elaborate on that statement.

As she finished the last of her food, she looked across the table at me.

“Are you all right with this, David?” she asked. “Me and Cal being here.”

“Of course I am, or I wouldn’t have invited you,” I replied.

“I wondered if maybe your Mum had pressured you into it,” she explained, “you know, doing the well if they can’t come, we won’t, thing.”

“No,” I answered, “she just explained that it was our turn to do Christmas, and since we were doing it here, you were obviously part of that. But I made the decision. Why did you ask?”

“Given what my daughter used to say, I just wondered if your mother manipulated you into inviting us,” she answered.

“You mean, ‘David is the easiest boy in the school to manipulate?’” I asked.

She sighed.

“Yes, I did,” she answered, “I’m sorry, David.”

“Sorry?” I asked, “what for?”

“For the hurt that my daughter has caused you,” she said, “I just hope that the pair of you can become friends again.”

“I hope so too,” I said softly, and she reached over and put her hand on top of mine and gave it a little squeeze.

“But I think that that is, possibly, all it ever could be,” I added.

“Oh, I know that,” she said, “heck if someone had done to me what she’s done to you just once, that would be it between us.”

“Somebody did though, didn’t they?” I asked.

She looked at me very seriously.

“Yes,” she agreed, “I suppose he did. Derek Jack Warner, Cal’s father.”

“I never knew his name,” I said, “does Cal?”

“It’s on her birth certificate,” she replied, “but I’ve never specifically told her, so I assume she does.”

“He was an American soldier, wasn’t he?” I asked.

“Airman actually, from Idaho,” she replied, “he was posted back to America and promised to send for us, but never did.”

“I remember that story from when I was a little kid,” I said.

She’d finished her food by this time and suggested that we wander back to Cal’s room. I looked at my watch, I’d been gone for just over half an hour. “If they’re doing girly talk, I’d better hang on here for a while longer, “text me when it’s safe, will you?” I asked her.

She stood up and agreed, then started to clear her plate and things back onto her tray.

“I’ll see to that,” I said, “you get on back.”

She looked at me and smiled.

“You, David James Barker, are a wonderful young man,” she said, “and my daughter is an unmitigated idiot.”

And with that, she left.

I finished clearing her tray and walked over to the rack provided for customers to self-clear their tables, disposed of the tray and went back to my table. There, I finished my coffee and went to get a refill.

Back at my table, I sat, sipping my coffee and thinking about what was going on in my life.

First, there was work. It was fine for making a lot of money, but I’d be the first to admit it wasn’t the glamorous activity that the world seemed to think it was. It was frankly boring. Did I really see myself doing it for the rest of my life, or did I want to go and do what I did find fascinating, the problem-solving world of computer science?

Then there were the girls in my life. Sandy, Charlie, Kathy, although she was now heavily involved with someone else, and last, and certainly by no means least, Cal. What could I do about them? More importantly, what did I want to do about them?

The third complication was University. Did I actually want to go? I’d already made enough from my acting career that I would be comfortable for the rest of my life, particularly thanks to my Dad and the financial adviser he’d hired looking after the investment of my money.

I was dragged out of my reverie by a ping from my phone telling me that I had a text. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen.

“IT’S OK. U CAN COME BACK NOW,” it said.

I stood up, put my mug on a tray in the tray rack and headed off back to the ICU.

There, I found Cal sat up in the bed, with all the instruments disconnected and a broad smile on her face.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“They say I’m fine and I can go,” she said, “it was a temporary thing caused by stress, and so long as I avoid that, I’ll be fine.”

“That’s great,” I said, “I’m glad. When can you leave?”

“As soon as your Dad gets here with the car,” her mother replied.

“I’d best go out and give you privacy to get dressed,” I said.

“You have seen it all before, you know,” Cal replied.

“Maybe so,” I agreed, “but not with your mother and my girlfriend in the room.”

I left the room, accompanied by Sandy and waited in the corridor outside, which got us noticed by one of the nurses.

“Are you OK there?” she asked.

“Yes, thanks,” Sandy replied, “our friend is getting dressed, so David had to come out and I came with him.”

“Ah,” she said, “I see.”

Then she looked at me more closely.

“Say,” she said, “aren’t you, you know.”

“David Barker,” I interrupted, “I played Greg Paradise in Star Academy.”

“I knew it,” she replied, “some of the girls have seen you around the hospital and were debating whether it was you.”

“Well, even if I wasn’t who I am, this is still me,” I said, smiling.

She looked puzzled and I let it slip by.

“Could I, like, get a picture with you?” she asked.

I looked at Sandy, who nodded.

“Of course,” I said, “do you have a camera?”

“On my phone,” she replied.

“Well, give your phone to Sandy and I’m sure she won’t mind taking it.

Sandy held her hand out and the nurse passed her phone to her.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Mary,” she said, “Mary Travers.”

“Well, Mary, Mary Travers, how do you want to stand?”

“Could you put your arm around my waist, like we were on a date or something?” she asked.

I shrugged and did as she asked, pulling her to me and we stood there, her looking up at me as Sandy took the photo and passed the phone back to her.

“Thank you,” she said, “I hope your friend in there is better soon.”

“I’m sure she will be Mary,” I said, “thank you.”

As she walked away, another Mary opened the door to Cal’s room and told us it was safe to go back in. Cal was dressed, as she had been the day she was brought in, in jeans and a warm woollen pullover. She looked, for some reason, very small. Admittedly, she wasn’t a big girl, but she seemed to have shrunk into herself.