Over.
Maggie felt her throat thicken and her chest hurt.
It was because it was the middle of the night. Things were always worse at three in the morning.
‘I’d rather tell Katie in person,’ she said. ‘But she’s elusive at the moment. Have you heard from her lately?’
‘No, but that isn’t unusual. You two have this mother-daughter thing going on. You’re the one she always calls.’
But Katie hadn’t called. She hadn’t called in a while.
Did that mean she was busy, or that something was wrong?
‘I’ll try calling her again. She usually does nothing but sleep and eat over Christmas. Travelling to Aspen might be difficult for her.’
Maggie swallowed. Christmas wasn’t going to be easy for any of them.
A sister who didn’t believe in marriage and parents who were divorcing.
What sort of a wedding was this going to be?
Katie
‘That’s it. All done.’ Katie removed her surgical gloves and stood up. The stitches were neat and she was satisfied she’d done the best possible job. ‘Is there someone we can call for you, Sally?’
The woman shook her head. There was a livid bruise on her left cheek and disillusionment in her eyes. ‘I never thought this would happen to me.’
Kate sat down again. Her shoulder ached from sitting in one position for so long and she rolled it discreetly to try and ease the pain. ‘It can happen to anyone, Sally. It’s not about you. It’s about him. It’s not your fault.’ She said the words even though she knew she probably wouldn’t be believed.
‘I feel stupid. I keep thinking I must have missed something. We’ve been together for two years. Married for six months. He’s never done anything like this before. I love him. I thought he loved me. There were no signs. No clues, you know…?’
Katie did know. Over the years she’d worked in the
emergency department she’d seen it all. Children who’d been abused. Women who’d been abused and, yes, men who’d been abused. She’d seen people who’d knifed each other, people who’d driven too fast and paid the price, people who’d drunk alcohol and then climbed behind the wheel and taken a life.
There had been plenty of regular accidents too, of course, along with the heart attacks, the brain haemorrhages, and any number of acute emergencies that had required her immediate attention. And then there were the hordes who decided that the emergency department was the easiest place to access medical care of the most trivial kind.
Each day she waded through a mixed soup of humanity, some good, some not so good.
‘When we met he was sweet and kind. Loving. Attentive.’ Sally wiped her cheek with the heel of her hand. ‘I’m trying not to cry because crying hurts. The physical injuries are awful, of course, but the worst thing is that it shakes your confidence in your own judgement. You must have seen it before. I can’t believe I’m the first.’
Katie handed her a tissue. ‘You’re not the first.’
‘How do you handle it? Working here, you must see the worst of human behaviour.’
Katie’s shoulder chose that moment to give an agonising twinge. Yes, she saw the worst of human behaviour. But she had to remind herself that she also saw the best. She wondered what would happen to this woman. To this marriage. Would she forgive him? Would they stay together or separate?
‘What will you do? Do you have a plan?’
‘No. Until he threw me down the stairs I didn’t realise I needed one.’ Sally blew her nose. ‘The house is mine, but I don’t feel safe in it right now so I’ll probably stay with my parents for a while. He wants to talk to me, and I suppose I should at least listen…’
Why? Katy wanted to tell her not to go back, but it wasn’t her business. She wasn’t qualified to advise on that. Her job was to fix the physical damage. Fixing the emotional carnage was someone else’s responsibility.
‘The police want to talk to you. Are you feeling up to it?’
‘Not really, but it’s important—so, yes, I’ll do it. This was going to be our first Christmas together.’ Sally tucked the tissue into her sleeve. ‘I had it all planned.’
The time of year seemed to amplify her distress, but Katy knew from experience that tragedy didn’t take a break for Christmas.