Chapter Thirteen
On Monday morning at the explosives lab Jane was told to finish bagging and tagging the victims’ clothes and then get to work on the items of personal property that had been recovered, checking them against victims’ statements. There was a large table covered with items of jewellery, wallets and purses, dropped by victims or torn from their clothing by the explosion. She didn’t find it as traumatic as the first time she handled the bloodstained clothing. She realised she was becoming desensitised to the situation, thanks, perhaps, to Dexter’s advice to put the worst of it out of her thoughts.
As Jane sat taking her break in the canteen she was hoping to see Dexter, but he didn’t come in. Just as she was finishing her lunch, however, Crowley approached her table.
‘We’ve had some worrying news about Mrs Millbank. She was taken down for more surgery this morning. I want you to go over there and see how she’s doing.’
‘Is it her leg?’
‘Yes, there’s been a complication. It’s gangrene, so she’ll need more taken off, which, given her age, could be touch and go.’
Jane felt awful and agreed to go straight to the hospital.
‘Keep me updated… Take her in some grapes… you know, look out for her.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Before going in to see Daphne, Jane waited to have a word with Michael, the charge nurse. He looked tired as he approached, but then broke into a wide smile when he caught sight of Jane. His mood became sombre again when she asked for an update on Daphne’s condition.
‘Well, she’s out of surgery. Her antibiotics have been increased, and so far, she has come through. It was another major operation to remove the infected tissue and thigh bone. All we can do now is hope for the best.’
‘Can I see her?’
‘Of course, but she won’t be very responsive. She’s heavily sedated and on a morphine drip
Jane headed towards the private section. She showed her ID and filled in her name and rank and time of visit on the visitor’s sheet before going in to see Daphne.
The blinds were still pulled down and the room felt cold and clinical. Daphne’s fragile figure was still surrounded by drips and medication. A sheeted cage had been erected over her from the waist down, and Daphne’s upper body was covered by a thick, white blanket drawn up to her chin. What little Jane could see of Daphne’s arms were covered by tubes and drips, and her tiny bird-like hands were horribly marked by dark black bruises from endless injections. As Daphne had said to Jane, ‘I feel like I’m a pincushion, dear…’
Jane pulled a hard-back chair closer to the bed and sat down, hoping that Daphne would wake up so that she could hear her lovely, gutsy voice. But there was just the shallow sound of her breathing and the hiss of the ventilator. Jane sat with her for an hour, watching the nurses come in and out to check her blood pressure. Daphne’s eyes didn’t open.
Jane met Michael on her way out of the ward, and as he was on a break they went to the canteen for a coffee and a pastry. Michael told her that they were short-staffed, still catching up with work after the explosion; they had taken in a lot of seriously injured patients the week before. Jane tried to lighten his mood by asking if he liked spaghetti bolognese.
‘Only, I wanted to ask if you’d like to have dinner at my place this week,’ she explained. ‘And it’s the only thing I can cook.’
He gave her a winning smile. ‘I love it! I’m free on Wednesday night… actually, I’m pretty free for the rest of the week if dinner is on the cards!’
Jane smiled. ‘Why not Wednesday… say about seven thirty? Let me give you my address.’
Jane was about to leave the hospital when Michael’s name was called out on the Tannoy system, asking him to return to the ward immediately. He went to the nearest internal phone and spoke to someone briefly before he gestured to Jane.
‘Daphne’s awake and demanding potted shrimps.’
‘So it’s OK to see her?’
‘Sure. We can go up together.’
‘Oh… I’m going to get her some grapes from the hospital shop.’
‘Fine. I’ll see you up there.’
The shop on the ground floor didn’t have any grapes, just a few rather bedraggled-looking bunches of flowers and endless rows of chocolates, biscuits and magazines. Jane bought a copy of The Times and a packet of peppermint creams.
As Jane went through the security process again, Michael was called to tend to another patient. He left Daphne’s room and gave Jane the thumbs up.
‘Daphne is a remarkable woman, but she’s annoyed I didn’t bring her those potted shrimps!’
‘It’s a bit late in the day for anything fresh from the fishmongers,’ Jane said, smiling.
‘I’ll ask the kitchens to make her a light meal, although I doubt she really wants to eat anything right now. The good news is that she’s breathing on her own.’
Jane waited for Michael to walk down the corridor before she eased open Daphne’s door and went into the room. Daphne’s lower half was still under the cage but she had been given another pillow to raise her head. She was still attached to various drips and tubes, but she looked wide awake.
‘Hello, Daphne, it’s Jane Tennison.’
‘Hello, dear… What a to-do. They’ve had me in surgery again. It’s down to bloody incompetent doctors if you ask me… they should have done a better job the first time around. Now I’m full of morphine, which makes me dippy in the head.’
Jane sat down beside her. ‘You don’t sound dippy to me, Daphne… You are an amazing woman, you know.’
‘I’d really like to have a radio to listen to, instead of having to hear those thumping footsteps up and down the corridor. And I’ve asked that nice male nurse to bring me a drop of gin… I told him that if he couldn’t get me potted shrimps then he can bloody well get me a gin and tonic!’
‘I’ll bring you a pot of shrimps tomorrow, Daphne, I promise. And if I can, I’ll sneak you in a little hip flask of gin.’
‘That’s awfully nice of you, dear… Are you a nurse here?’
‘No, Daphne… I’m Jane Tennison, remember? I’m a detective.’
‘I was a Wren, you know. The uniform suited me but I hated wearing the hat. I need to see Heather as well… I love her so much, and she must be getting anxious.’
‘Is she a friend?’
‘Who?’
‘Heather?’
‘No, silly, she’s my Scottie. I walk her every day, and I think I’d better get up now…’
Daphne started pulling at her drips and pushing the cage away from her bed. Jane hurried out to the corridor and yelled for a nurse, as a loud crash came from the room. Two nurses hurried in and eventually managed to get Daphne settled, but she was shouting and had become abusive. One of the nurses told Jane to leave the room and as she went outside Michael was running down the corridor towards her.
‘She tried to get up… she was becoming hysterical and talking about a Scottie dog. I don’t think she has one though?’
‘That’ll be the morphine talking. I’ll call you later and give you an update, all right?’
‘Thank you.’ Jane waited for a while outside Daphne’s room before she left the hospital. Daphne’s behaviour had disturbed her. Considering her frail condition, the strength and determination she had shown in trying to get out of bed was astonishing.