'Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room
Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news
...
Caroline idly flicked through a magazine, her eyes scanning over the pages. Not taking in a single word. She hadn't seen Gillian since the ambulance had screeched to a halt outside the hospital and she'd been quickly wheeled away. She had been nervously pacing the waiting room for well over an hour, wondering what the hell she should do.
Trying to shake off the fear. The anxiety. The awful feeling of being left behind.
The ambulance journey had seemed endless. Like a dream. She couldn't even hold her hand. She couldn't even offer that small shred of comfort. The paramedic was trying desperately to stop the bleeding to her wrists. So she had shuffled forward and stroked Gillian's hair, gently brushing it away from her eyes. Muttering nonsense. Cheery platitudes again. She didn't have the words.
Exhausted with pacing, she had eventually curled up in a corner of the waiting room, far away from everyone else. All the other anxious families, patiently waiting for news. A television played in another corner of the room, quietly entertaining nobody. The silence was deafening.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket, her breath hitching in her throat when she noticed smears of blood covering the screen. Slowly she wiped it away, with hands that were also covered in blood. How had she not noticed that before now? She thought back to a time not so long ago when she had sat like that. Covered in somebody elses blood. Sodding Judith. It seemed a million years before.
She should ring Alan surely. Raff. Her Mum? They ought to know. Despite everything, they deserved to know. But Caroline couldn't bring herself to make those calls. To explain to them. She couldn't make any sense of it. Gillian was so headstrong, resilient, she could take on the world and never be the victim. And now... this.
She didn't have the words.
She didn't have the answers.
How could she do this? Gillian, why?
"Mrs Elliott?"
The Doctor's greeting startled her, so lost in her thoughts and she turned quickly and faced her.
She looked like Kate. So very like her. Her Kate. Her saviour. The irony was not lost on her.
"Yes, how is she? I mean is she.. is she okay? she asked, desperation barely disguised in her voice.
"We have stabilised her. We've pumped her stomach to get the tablets she had taken out of her system, which we hope has prevented any lasting damage to her internal organs. Time will very much tell. The wounds to her wrists have been stitched after we were able to stop the bleeding. It is likely there will be permanent scarring due to the severity of the incisions. She had lost a significant amount of blood so we gave her a transfusion which has been successful. All in all, she should recover well psychically in time."
Caroline let out a breath she was unaware she had been holding and ran a shaking hand through her hair.
"This was clearly a serious suicide attempt" The doctor continued, bluntly but not unkindly. "It was lucky you found her when you did. From my experience... well clearly this was not merely a cry for help..."
"She really wanted to die." Caroline whispered, understanding the doctors meaning.
"She needs help. We will do everything within our power to see that she gets it." The doctor said, placing her hand over Caroline's own.
Caroline nodded, and only realised that tears were falling down her face when the Doctor handed her a tissue. She took it gratefully and tried to compose herself. She liked this Doctor, this woman who reminded her of Kate. She liked her no-nonsense approach, her determination and her compassion. Most of all she liked her because she had saved her sister's life.
"Is there anyone we can call?" the Doctor asked, breaking Caroline out of her reverie.
"Yes" said Caroline, closing her eyes, "But it's something I need to do. I need to find the words"
...
Everything was too loud. Distorted. Confusing. Unreal. She didn't want to open her eyes.
Her throat hurt, like she had been left without water for too long. Her stomach too. Her wrists. Pain, pain all over. She didn't care.
Her body felt heavy, though not as heavy as the weight upon her heart.
She knew she had failed, and this crushed her. She wanted to be dead, she deserved to be dead. How could she have failed? How weak she was. She wished it wasn't true. She wished she was gone.
She thought of her Dad and Raff. She knew they would be better off without her. They hated her, the look in their eyes had burned into her memory forever.
She had never wanted to let them down, she needed them too much.
She loved her boy, she loved him with a fierceness she couldn't describe. But she had done wrong by him too many times. Killed his Father. Driven away the Uncle he adored. Now she had taken away his little brother or sister. He wouldn't want to know her. He didn't need her. He had baby Emily and he had Ellie. A family all of his own now. His Grandfather and Celia, and Caroline too.
Caroline. She would have been told about the baby. What she had done. Somehow the thought of this woman who had come to mean so much, turning against her was too much to bear, and a single tear fell from her closed eyes.
"Gillian? Gillian are you awake?"
A soft voice, followed by an even softer touch as fingers gently brushed away that solitary tear.
With every ounce of strength she had left, Gillian forced herself to open her eyes.
She was there.
Caroline.
...
Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines in a place where we only say goodbye
It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend on a faulty camera in our minds
But I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose than to have never lain beside at all
And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground as the TV entertained itself