"Who are you?" the nurse asked Maureen sharply as she turned to help Ella onto the bed, her sagging little bottom visible between the sides of the gaping paper robe.
Maureen didn't know what to say.
"Are you here to visit Mrs. McGee?" said the nurse. "Visiting doesn't start for another half hour. You'll need to wait downstairs."
Ella was sitting on the blankets. The nurse struggled to lift her up with one hand and push the sheets back. Maureen stepped forward and pulled the covers out of the way. The nurse looked at her, disapproving, as if she'd tried to curry favor. "You'll still have to wait downstairs," she said, lifting Ella's plastered leg onto the bed. Ella groaned under her breath and shut her eyes.
Maureen felt disproportionately guilty.
"Come back," said Ella awkwardly, and Maureen realized why she hadn't spoken the day before. Her top set of dentures was broken, snapped in half between the two front teeth.
Maureen shook herself. It was ridiculous to feel so guilty. She hadn't started a food fight in the middle of an operation, she was just interrupting the nurse's toileting round. "The date came through for the small-claims case," she said, clumsily, pressing the letter into Ella's hand. "It's next Friday."
Ella hunched over suddenly and grimaced, letting out a low, desperate yowl of regret, crumpling the letter in her bony fist. The nurse bent down suddenly, trying to look her in the eye, thinking she was having an attack of some kind. Ella pushed the woman away, shaking her head over and over, and Maureen knew she shouldn't have brought the letter here, not while Ella was in hospital and so afraid already. It would hardly kill her to be kind. She crouched down in front of Ella, chucking her chin to make her stop shaking her head. "D'ye need nighties?" she asked.
Ella's eyes moistened and she nodded. "I need…" She started to cry. "… a comb."
Maureen petted her hand a couple of times, stood up and left. She heard the nurse asking Ella if Maureen was her daughter. She took a back door out to the street so that she wouldn't pass Leslie on her way to the shops.
The department store was thick with Saturday shoppers, wandering around in family units, holding up lamps and running their hands over carpets and curtains while restless children ran in the aisles and played with information leaflets about zero-interest credit. It was cool in the windowless store; it might have been winter outside.
Maureen took the escalator up a level and found the nighties next to the sportswear. Given her financial state she should have gone for the cheap nylon mix but she thought of loveless Ella sitting on the bed without a comb and chose two brushed-cotton full-length nightdresses with pansies printed on them, one in pink, one in blue. Ignoring the nagging worry about money, she picked up a comb, a bar of soap in a fancy box, a matching tub of talc and a lavender wash bag from the same set. They had a small makeup display and she chose a blister-packed eyeliner pencil for Ella to draw her eyebrows on with. She tried not to look when the assistant tallied it up, and paid for it with a card.
The nurse smiled at her as she came up the corridor for the second time. "Your brother's already here," she said, and smiled wider when she saw the expensive department-store bag.
Si was sitting exactly where he had been the day before, at the foot of the bed, watching Ella lying still, as if he was guarding her, waiting for her to try something so he could jump up and stop her. He turned and greeted Maureen with a glance that took in skirt and blouse. She saw a smile flicker in his eyes. Si had either left before the post arrived this morning or hadn't realized that she was the Maureen O'Donnell named on the small-claims letter. He thought she had dressed up to please him. He turned back to Ella, who was looking at her feet again.
"Hi again," said Maureen, keeping it breezy, "I got ye some nighties. And a wee wash bag." She sat down next to Ella on the bed, facing Si, and pulled out the soap, comb and talc. "Nice to have nice smells," she said, smiling at him, presenting no threat.
Ella reached into the bag and pulled out the cellophane bag with one of the nighties in it. Slowly she peeled open the glued-down strip at the back and worked her hand into the bag, feeling the soft material.
Maureen nodded and smiled patronizingly. "D'ye like that, Ella?"
Ella nodded.
"Will we get ye out of that paper thing now?"
Ella nodded again, slowly. They both looked at Si. He stood up reluctantly, pushing the chair away noisily with the backs of his knees, and left the room, purposefully leaving the door an inch ajar. Maureen stepped forward and shut the door properly. "Can ye sit up, pet?" said Maureen, loud enough for Si to hear.
Ella managed to push herself forward from the pillows and Maureen undid the string ties at the back of her gown. Beneath her gold chain, her bruised back was emerald green tinged with blue, like badly spoiled meat. "What the fuck's going on here?" she whispered.
Ella let her broken teeth fall into her hand. Her cheeks collapsed and she looked up at Maureen, crying, as afraid as the child with no eyes in Maureen's hall cupboard. "Get me the fuff out of here," she whimpered, cursing through flaccid lips.
Maureen crackled the cellophane noisily. "Here ye are. This'll be nicer for ye. That's nice and soft, isn't it?" she said loudly, and lowered her voice. "What happened to you?"
"Please, God, get me out of here."
Maureen faced her. "Ella, listen to me: you'll be safe in here, there's nurses all over the place. What happened to you?"
"I fell."
"Did ye fuck."
"I fell. Don't tell anyone."
Maureen lowered the neck of the nightdress over the old woman's head. "If ye fell over why are ye worried I'll tell anyone?"
"I fell."
Maureen had to take the drip-bag off the metal hook and thread it through the arm of the nightie carefully, guiding Ella's hand and arm after it. "Ella," she said, slipping the second arm in, "are you dropping the small-claims case, then?"
Ella looked at the door. "He doesn't even know about that yet." Her face contorted in a panicked sob. "He'll fucking kill me."
A knock at the door stopped them dead. "Won't be a moment," called Maureen, in a stupid singsong voice. She pulled the sheet up, too embarrassed to smooth the nightie under Ella's bare backside, and sat on the bed.
The women composed themselves, Ella carefully slipping her broken teeth back in, fitting the snapped edges together and catching her breath. "Please," she whispered, watching the door, "get me out of here."
"Look, you're safe in here," said Maureen. "There's nothing-"
The door opened and Si came back in. "Ooh," he said, looking at the nightie pooled around his mother's waist, "that's a nice one."
The nurse with the auburn hair was chatting to a porter in the corridor but she broke off when she saw Maureen lingering there, waiting to catch her.
"Do you know what happened to her?" said Maureen, playing the concerned daughter. "She won't talk about it. The nurse last night said she'd fallen over but it's both sides of her face."
The nurse folded her arms. "Don't you know?"
"I know she didn't fall." Maureen folded her arms too.
"Didn't your brother tell you?"
Maureen looked at the floor. "My brother and I don't talk, I'm afraid."
The nurse nodded. "I see, I see. Your mum was mugged, in her house."
Maureen was skeptical. "Shouldn't the police be told, then?" The nurse didn't like her. "The police have been up twice for a statement," she said coldly. "She couldn't tell them much. Luckily your brother was here to hold her hand."