I felt as if every word I muttered turned to blood as I recited them; just empty words and empty promises. Poor little Ellie, only three she'd already seen and been through a lot. I didn't know much about her past but by the sounds of it, it wasn't a particularly pleasant one. There was little I could do to assure her that Lorraine would be ok as I could barely feel optimistic myself. These empty words didn't mean a thing and the last thing she needed were promises by adults, people she should feel like she can trust and then not keeping them. We climbed out of the ambulance and Lorraine was rushed into emergency surgery. 'Is mummy going to be ok?' Ellie struggled to string words together in between sobs, rubbing her eyes and clinging onto my blazer. 'I don't know, I hope so…' she broke out into hysterical crying, like a new born clearing out their lungs for the first time. 'Hey…hey Ellie , the doctors and nurses are going to take great care of her and she should be ok, she'll wake up…..she has too.' I made an effort to be more positive, my smiles looking like a grimace as I spoke words of hope to the little girl looking at me through long blonde locks and watery eyes. Ellie the spitting image of Lorraine; a little stunner.
The hospital was bright, reminding me of deaths door, the times spent at church as a little girl, hearing about heaven and hell, and the bright light before death. When I met Lorraine everything had changed and I thought she was my heaven; I hadn't believed in god for a while but I believed in something greater than myself yet to be discovered, I believed in love and I believed in hope. At the same time nothing was going to hit me harder than life, with the swing of a bat, my bat changing to curve ball; I had ended up here. With Lorraine my reason I was here seemed clear, I wanted to spend every waking moment with her, holding her hand, protecting her like the good man in a storm, the woman I was raised to be. My idea of hell had varied, changing from Satan and the devil to fear itself and now losing Lorraine would bring myself to lose the will to live; how could I live with myself? My theory was that if I had stopped her, she wouldn't have gone home; she wouldn't have run into Ellie's father wherever he had gone and we wouldn't be in this mess. I took my blazer off, letting Ellie clamber on top of my lap, clinging her arms around my neck like leaving home for the first time. Wrapping it around her shoulders she took in a deep sniff of the jacket holding it close for comfort, it also smelt of safety not to mention Lorraine's expensive perfume from where I wrapped her in it often, she was like a sugar mouse in the rain or cold, this is why I had hung it carefully, taking it for myself today for pleasure, the need and want to feel close to her, today of all days.
Looking at Ellie, she poked her head out of my shoulder, her little toes, I could see and count all ten of them scrunched onto the chair behind were we were wrapped in an embrace on the plastic clinic style chairs that didn't make waiting any easier. Her eyes contained a certain look, sadness from stories I would never know. 'Do you work with mummy?' she asked me quietly after a while, making me jump, was dangerous pulling me out of a deep place, losing my train of thought. 'Yes, I'm a teacher at the school your mum funds.' 'You like mummy?' she asked, bright for a little one, she clearly took after her mother. 'Yes, more than anyone, I love her so much.' I admitted, feeling the weight of my confession loosen, breathing coming a little easier.
'Hello ?' the nurse questioned over the top of her clipboard looking quizzically. 'Yes…Is Lorraine ok? Where is she?' I spoke fast and couldn't control the speed even if I tried, I was shaking underneath. 'She should be ok…she lost a lot of blood, had a head injury, chances are she'll make a full recovery but brain damage could be possible. We'll need to take a statement later, but of course you may see her first.' She replied answering every question I had accept; what would happen if she couldn't remember? Would not remembering be worse than death? Ellie ran ahead clearly expecting to see Lorraine up, talking like normal. Children were more resilient, they were more optimistic, believed in the lighter side, magic, happiness; she'd come back from worse. Seeing Lorraine, all pale, vulnerable and bandaged, with an IV full of pain meds and tubes helping her breathe after the op, she still looked beautiful. I guess Ellie saw that it was the same person she knew; she believed she'd be ok. All my fight and will power wouldn't be enough to stop me sinking to my knees. I'd beg to God or to anyone if I knew someone cared enough. Instead I watched like a hawk watching it's takeaway dinner as Ellie climbed onto the chair next to Lorraine's bed patting her leg gently calling 'Wake up Mummy, the doctors will make you better.' I wanted to cry out instead I joined her rubbing my thumb on her hand, removing the strands of hair from her eyes and preying with my whole heart that she'd wake up soon.