Bonkers Page 8

  Lisa was curled up on the bed as tightly as the plaster cast would allow her when he went into her room after a rushed explanation from the nursing staff. She didn’t appear to be aware of anything or anybody, and was crying desperately, her body wracked by sobs.

  ‘Linda?’ Dan said softly, making his way around to the far side of the bed so he could see her face. ‘Linda, honey? What’s wrong? Who’s upset you?’ He sat on the side of the bed and stroked the tangled black hair from her brow.

  She continued to cry hopelessly. ‘Please stop calling me Linda.’

  ‘OK.’ He continued to stroke her hair.

  ‘What am I going to do?’ she whispered, staring at the wall opposite. ‘ What am I going to do?’

  Dan’s heart clenched. He had rarely seen such utter desolation in a human being, and in his profession he’d seen plenty of pain.

  ‘Who did you call?’ he asked gently.

  ‘My…my family.’

  He frowned. ‘Your family? You mean your mom? In the States?’

  She pushed his hand away angrily and glared at him. ‘No! I mean my mum and dad! Here!’

  Dan struggled to hide his utter confusion. She wasn’t making any sense. Lisa covered her face with her hands and wept.

  ‘Please don’t,’ Dan implored. Forgetting his decision to keep his distance, he slid his arms beneath her and lifted her against his chest. She struggled briefly and then relaxed against him as he stroked her back in silence.

  Gradually, Lisa grew quieter as she lay against Dan Brogan’s solid chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Her sobs subsided and her tears eventually stopped soaking the front of his shirt. With one hand she found the front of his shirt and clutched at it, unknowingly scratching him with her unfamiliar acrylic nails.

  Dan winced but continued to stroke her. He thought she’d gone to sleep, but when he checked he saw she was still awake. Gently, he eased her back against the pillows and bent over her, a hand braced on either side of her waist.

  ‘Everything will be OK,’ he said, looking intently into her swollen eyes. ‘I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you.’

  Lisa stared up at him, a faint frown etched between her brows. ‘Thank you,’ she said in a voice clogged with tears. ‘You’ve been so nice. I do appreciate it, Dan.’

  Dan nodded and reluctantly sat up. ‘I’ll come and see you as soon as I’ve finished my ward rounds. You’ll be OK until then?’

  She nodded, for the first time becoming aware he was in his work clothes.

  As Dan got up, he discreetly palmed the phone card from the top of the locker and dropped it into his trouser pocket, wondering who Linda could have called that would have upset her so much.

  Apart from Betty Mulholland, the only person he could think of was Jack Millar.

  The next morning, Dan made separate appointments to meet with Rod Cameron the neurosurgeon, and Craig Fergusson. He needed to run some things by them before he took Linda home, although he doubted they could tell him anything new.

  ‘Before Linda had the accident she was right-handed,’ Dan said to Rod. ‘Now she’s left-handed and her speech has radically changed. I’m the first to admit this isn’t my specialty—I’m a bone man—but from what I’ve seen of the CAT scans, she’s recovered remarkably well.’

  Rod nodded agreement. ‘I can’t explain the changes, but in the greater scheme of things does it really matter?’ He regarded Dan impatiently. ‘Your wife is alive with full motor and sensory function and she’ll probably eventually regain her memory from before the accident. Isn’t that all that counts?’

  Dan nodded his head and thanked Rod for all he’d done for Linda, knowing Rod thought he was being an ungrateful pain in the ass. This man had patients who would never recover, and he and his colleagues had to make life-and-death decisions about removing patients from the machines keeping them alive when their brains had actually died.

  Dan headed to the office he shared with two other surgeons at the children’s hospital to meet with Craig Fergusson. It was the only time he and Craig had managed to find in their hectic schedules to see each other before Linda was discharged. Fortunately, the other two doctors weren’t there when Craig arrived. As usual he was having trouble with his glasses.

  Dan knew Craig a lot better than he knew the neurosurgeon and was far more open about his fears for Linda. He explained about the changes in the way she spoke, the lack of interest in her appearance, and her change in diet.

  ‘A few times she’s said she isn’t Linda. In fact when she first woke up she said her name was Lisa Jackson,’ he said, looking tired and frustrated. ‘And after years of refusing to talk about her dyslexia, she’s suddenly an authority on the subject, asking me to bring her flash cards and coloured filters to see if they’ll help her to read.’

  Craig listened sympathetically. ‘Well, at least that’s something positive. I find it interesting she’s chosen to call herself Lisa; after all, it’s very similar to Linda. I can’t explain much of what you’ve told me, Dan, but the depression would explain her lack of interest in her appearance. It’s a common enough symptom.’

  Dan snorted. ‘Not when we’re talking about my wife, Craig. Linda was obsessed with her appearance. She felt her looks were all that validated her as a person.’ He paused and added grimly, ‘Linda was the kind of woman who would have taken time out to fix her lipstick even though she was bleeding to death.’

  Craig smiled slightly. ‘You speak of her as if she’s gone.’

  Tipping his head onto the back of his chair, Dan stared up at the ceiling and murmured, ‘Perhaps she has.’

  Craig watched him thoughtfully. ‘How are you coping, Dan? This is hardly an easy situation to deal with—especially with the added pressure of work.’

  Dan immediately straightened in his chair. ‘I’m fine.’

  Craig blinked, frowned and removed his glasses. ‘It would help if we could get Linda to take some antidepressants, but she won’t have a bar of it.’

  Dan picked up a paperclip from the office tidy on his desk and began to carefully straighten it. ‘Did you hear about what happened after she made a telephone call the other day?’

  Craig nodded whilst letting his eyes wander across Dan’s desk. It was a mess, but the staff knew better than to tidy it. The only time they had seen nice, reserved Dr Dan lose his temper was when somebody foolishly tried to straighten his desk.

  Dan appeared absorbed in straightening out the paperclip. ‘Do you think she’s potentially suicidal?’

  ‘No.’ Craig shook his head. ‘No, I get the feeling Linda is very grateful to still be here.’ He hesitated. ‘What’s happening when you take her home on Friday? Are you taking some leave next week?’

  Dan sighed and dropped the paperclip to tunnel his hands through his hair. ‘I can’t at the moment. I have some procedures booked that I can’t hand over to my registrar. Some of the kids have been waiting months for their surgery. I can’t just up and go on vacation.’ He regarded Craig with frustration. ‘But I’m worried about Linda being left at home on her own when her state of mind is so precarious.’

  ‘What about your mother? Didn’t you say she’d offered to come and stay with Linda?’

  He laughed mirthlessly and slumped back in his seat. ‘I was dreaming. My mom would come, but she and Linda never got on.’

  ‘They might now,’ Craig pointed out.

  Dan shook his head. ‘I don’t want to take the chance.’

  They sat in silence for several moments.

  Dan watched as Craig replaced his glasses, blinked and took them off again, scowling. ‘Why don’t you just wear contact lenses?’

  ‘Because I can’t stand them, that’s why!’

  ‘Why don’t you have laser surgery then? I can give you the name of a really good surgeon.’

  Craig shuddered. ‘No way! I’m a chicken when it comes to knives and human flesh. Why do you think I became a psychiatrist?’

  Dan looked amused. �
��Well…I don’t know…cut your goddamned eyelashes or something.’

  Craig smiled. ‘That’s what your wife told me to do.’

  The amusement slid from Dan’s face. ‘What the hell am I going to do, Craig?’

  ‘Does Linda have any friends you could ask to help out?’

  ‘No.’

  Linda hadn’t made any lasting friendships in New Zealand.

  ‘You know how it works, Dan,’ Craig said. ‘The more Linda associates with people from her old life, the better the chances are of her regaining some of her memory.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dan sighed. ‘I know how it works.’

  ‘So at the moment, you’re it.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he agreed bleakly. ‘I’m it.’

  Dan came to the reluctant conclusion he had to arrange to take some vacation time. When he visited Linda that night he felt guilty, as if he had betrayed her. She was being so incredibly brave in an intolerable situation, finding humour in her amnesia where she could. Making him find humour in it. He was astonished by the level of trust she appeared to have in him, even though he was to all intents and purposes a stranger. He told himself she regarded him as just another doctor involved in her care. That, however, had nothing to do with the strong physical attraction that had suddenly developed between them.

  It had come out of left field, catching Dan by complete surprise. Linda had long ago ceased to be attractive to him. He could appreciate she was very beautiful, but she made him think of a mouth-watering dish that tasted rotten. Dan’s relationship with Linda had deteriorated in the months prior to her accident to the point where he hadn’t wanted to touch her. He knew Linda had been badly shaken by his withdrawal. By withholding himself physically, Dan had unintentionally dealt her a mortal blow; Linda’s physical beauty was all that provided her with her flimsy self-esteem.

  ‘When you come home…’ he began reluctantly, sitting in his customary chair at the end of her hospital bed.

  Lisa froze as she hopped towards him, the palm of her right hand braced on the mattress for support. Dan noticed that as usual she hadn’t tied her robe properly and the sash was trailing on the ground. At the same time as he was trying to reconcile this new, untidy Linda with the clothes-conscious, perfectly groomed, old Linda, Lisa noticed he once again was wearing odd socks and today his tie was decorated with SpongeBob SquarePants.

  She pointed at the tie. ‘Where did you get that one?’

  Dan picked up the end of her sash and, climbing to his feet, pushed it through the belt carrier. Reaching around her, he began to thread the other end of the sash through the belt loop on the opposite side. ‘In a shop, and stop changing the subject.’

  Lisa stood on her good leg within the loose circle of his arms with her hands held out at her sides for balance. She wished she could flatten her palms against the wall of his chest, lean forward and take a deep breath of warm, spicy man. In a millisecond her pulse rate had gone from stroll-in-the-park to hundred-metre-sprint. She felt breathless and hoped Dan didn’t notice. ‘When I come home?’ she prompted, her eyes fixed on SpongeBob.

  Dan suddenly stopped, the ends of the belt in his hands. They were facing one another. Lisa looked up at him warily, her blue eyes very wide. Her black hair was tied in two fat braids that brushed the tops of her breasts. Dan thought she looked adorable. He felt the warmth of her slim body through the material of her robe where his hands were pressed against her belly. Against his will his eyes dropped to her soft, pink lips. They parted as she suddenly inhaled.

  ‘When I come home?’ she said again softly.

  Dan reacted like a scalded cat, stepping backwards so abruptly he crashed into the edge of the tall table straddling the bed. He cleared his throat. ‘Nothing,’ he said shortly. ‘Do you want me to take any laundry home?’

  She went pink and shook her head. For some reason the thought of him washing her clothes seemed to embarrass her. ‘No, thanks,’ she murmured, making a performance out of straightening the table.

  Dan raked a hand through his hair, wondering why this woman had the ability to tie his tongue in knots. ‘When you come home,’ he said gruffly, ‘I won’t be able to take any vacation at first, so you’ll be on your own a lot. But I’ll arrange to take some leave as soon as I possibly can.’

  She looked horrified. ‘No! Honestly, I’ll be just fine! And I don’t expect you to take time off to be with me. Really! It isn’t necessary!’

  Well, that sure as hell put him in his place, Dan thought sourly. ‘Yeah. Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’

  ‘Yeah, when we come to it.’ Lisa agreed.

  8

  Sherry Jackson was shaking with rage.

  Some sick bitch had called up her mother, pretending to be Lisa.

  ‘I’ll get Telecom to trace the call,’ she promised her father Brian as they stood together in her parents’ kitchen. ‘I’ll find out who the hell it is and—’

  ‘Leave it, Sherry,’ her father interrupted wearily. ‘Just leave it. Please.’

  ‘But what if they phone again? What if—’

  Brian held up a placating hand. ‘If they phone again, I’ll make the call to Telecom myself. But for now I just want to try and forget about it.’ He glanced through the kitchen doorway to where his wife sat at the dining-room table, staring out the window and chain-smoking. ‘Making a fuss with Telecom won’t help your mother at the moment.’

  Sherry tried to swallow her fury and frustration. It was her inability to put things right that was causing her the most pain now. First of all it had been the shock and disbelief that Lisa had been involved in a car crash at the roundabout not far from their family home. That had been swiftly followed by the news at the hospital that she had died about fifteen minutes before Sherry got there.

  Sherry was a police officer. When she got to the hospital, the first thing she’d seen was two of her colleagues walking slowly behind her mum and dad as they came along a corridor in the Emergency Department. She had been shocked at her parents’ appearance. They looked like zombies, their arms hanging limply by their sides and their faces blank with shock. They had just confirmed that the body in the room they’d left was that of their daughter Lisa Louise Jackson.

  Sherry’s brother, Ben, went straight in to see Lisa when he arrived at the hospital half an hour later. He had come out crying so hard that it was difficult to understand him. ‘Go’n…go’n…see her, Sherry. She’s…she’s still warm.’

  But Sherry didn’t want to see Lisa’s dead body. Instead she pinned a ghastly smile on her lips and went scouting to find out where the driver of the other car had been taken.

  ‘The driver of the other car is in Resuss Room One, officer,’ one of the nurses said briefly as she rushed off in the opposite direction, automatically assuming Sherry, who was in uniform, was just another one of the police officers who regularly attended the busy city Emergency Department. ‘One of your colleagues is already there.’

  Sherry checked the whiteboard and saw the name Linda Brogan scribbled in red felt-tip pen in the space for Resuss Room One.

  A nurse walked past, her eyes fastened on a point further along the corridor behind Sherry. ‘Mr Brogan?’ she said.

  Sherry looked around sharply and saw an extremely tall, dark-haired man dressed in green surgical scrubs striding towards her. She knew he must be a surgeon because the nurse had called him ‘Mr’ instead of ‘Dr’. She noticed that a blue surgical mask dangled from his neck as if he had just rushed out of the operating theatre. He wore the blank, shocked expression Sherry had seen so many times on the faces of relatives when they learned that somebody they loved had been involved in an accident.

  Noticing Sherry’s uniform, Brogan looked at her questioningly, obviously wondering if she, too, was waiting to speak to him. When she continued to stare at him without speaking, he turned his attention to the nurse saying, ‘Yes?’

  ‘Your wife is in Resuss Room One,’ the nurse told him. ‘I’ll show you the way.’


  ‘How is she?’ Sherry heard him say, as he and the nurse hurried away. She realized he had an American accent.

  So Linda Brogan’s husband was a surgeon.

  Sherry sped along the corridor after them, intent on getting inside RR1 and doing…what? Her steps faltered as the door to the room swung open to admit Brogan and the nurse. Dillon Taylor, a fellow police officer and friend, came out. He eyed her warily. ‘Sherry? Sherry, what are you doing around here?’

  Sherry noticed the way he held his hands out at his sides as he stepped towards her. She tried to slip sideways around him and make a run for the door, but he caught her and held her tightly while she fought and struggled against his much larger frame. ‘Sherry! Sherry! Come on, Sher! You know you can’t go in there!’

  ‘Is she alive, Dillon?’ Sherry spat, wrenching herself out of his arms. ‘Because Lisa’s dead!’

  The news rocked Dillon. He and Lisa had been an item for two years, before Lisa’s endometriosis became really bad and she’d broken the relationship off. For a while, Sherry and the rest of the Jackson clan had fully expected Dillon to be joining the family at some point in the future.

  He closed his eyes briefly. ‘I’m sorry, Sherry. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘So…so…she’s still alive then?’ Sherry hissed. ‘The Brogan woman?’

  ‘I think so. They’re still working on her.’

  Just then, Sherry thought she heard Lisa call her name and felt a light touch on her arm. Completely unnerved, she looked to her right but there was nothing there. Absolutely nothing. She shrank back and felt a rush of air as if something was rushing past her at speed in the direction of the resuss-room doors.

  Dillon grabbed her as she wobbled on her feet. ‘Sherry? Sherry, are you OK?’

  ‘Did you hear that?’ she whispered through bloodless lips. ‘It sounded like Lisa. Did you hear her?’

  Dillon blanched. Snatching Sherry up, he carried her along the corridor away from the room.