Phone Call

Sandra blinked. She was sure she had only just got to sleep, having given up waiting for Rob to come home and finally finding a comfortable position to doze off in. Reaching for the mobile phone on her bedside cabinet she blearily recognised that it wasn't her alarm going off but a phone call coming in.

"Gerry?" she asked, dimly registering his name on the caller id as she slid her thumb across the display, wondering what he wanted.

"Sandra, hi, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you…"

He sounded worried, hurried and uncertain. Suddenly she wasn't very tired anymore.

"Gerry? What's happened?" she pushed against the bed and persuaded her body to sit up. She fumbled against the solid structure of the lamp on her bedside table until she found the switch and pushed it. Blinking in the sudden light, she waited for Gerry's answer.

"Listen, I don't want to worry you guv…"

"Gerry?" she had a feeling now that whatever he said was going to go against his wishes of not worrying her. Her eyes were subconsciously drawn to the empty side of the bed next to her. His pillow undented, the covers still lying heavy over the unoccupied space.

"Can you come down the hospital? You and Mia?"

Feelings aside, she was sure as hell she was worried now.

"What's happened?" she was conscious of her heartbeat quickening. She shifted the covers off and swung her legs out into the cool night air of the flat. She didn't wear slippers, but the floor was carpeted. She tried to concentrate on the sensation of carpet under her bare feet as she stood up, rather than the rising sense of panic that reared like a waterfall in reverse as once again she waited for Gerry's response.

"I'll explain when you get here," Gerry was trying his best to offer a calm and rational aspect; unfortunately she had known the man ten years.

"Gerry, what's happened? Just tell me," she pulled open the wardrobe door and found a pair of jeans, underwear and an old jumper; her boots were in the hallway. She looked at her pale reflection in the mirror and hoped that her voice had managed to carry enough authority and composure to convince him to tell her.

She heard Gerry take a shaky breath before the words came: "Rob's been hurt; him and Carrie have been brought down here. If you bring Bella with a few things, Paula will take her back to mine and look after her."

"Right," Sandra heard herself saying. Nothing he had said could have been unexpected, and it didn't give anything away. "Which hospital?"

"Barts. I'll meet you at reception. What? Yeah, ok. Sandra, I've got to go. Try not to worry, please. I'll see you when you get here."

Hanging up, she put the phone down on the bed. She was right, she had only just got off to sleep: the display read 1:30am. Sighing, and putting all worry and fear to one side of her mind with the loud reasoning that he probably just needed a lift home (though why would she be taking Mia…? That could wait, she firmly told herself) she got dressed as quickly as she could and padded through the flat to Mia's door.

Knocking softly she opened the door. Serenity radiated from the two sleeping girls; Bella happily snuggled under her soft blanket, her lips twitching in and out of smiles, mobile still turning slowly above her; Mia curled in her duvet, the work she'd been doing lying on the floor; the night light between the cot and bed playing a soft light over the scene.

"Mia?" she gently placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. Waves of thoughts of how to explain, how to escape the situation crashed around her mind where Gerry's words rang like a mermaid's call over and over.

"Mmm?" Mia stirred and opened her eyes. On realising who it was in her room she sat up immediately. "Sandra? What's up? You ok?"

"Aye love," Sandra didn't have time to wonder exactly how much time she'd spent with Brian to allow his dialect to enter her façade. "Listen, don't panic but Gerry's just rang me. They need us to go down and meet your dad at the hospital. Can you get Bella up and pack her a few things?"

"What?" Mia struggled against the information she was receiving in her just-woken state. "Why? Where's she going?"

"Gerry's daughter Paula is going to look after her if we need to stay for a bit," she explained calmly, her brain desperately trying to tell her that Gerry's suggestion that Paula was going to look after Bella was an over-reaction to how long they were going to be. (But then why had he sounded so worried? Later, she told herself.)

"Right…" Mia pushed back the hair from her forehead. She paused as the light caught it; she'd dyed it a mahogany red the week before and still wasn't quite used to the shade. "I don't understand. Why is Dad at the hospital?"

"I don't know," Sandra admitted helplessly. The conversation with Gerry was still spinning, picking up speed like the carousel in Mary Poppins, the horses of information threatening to break loose and run riot if she let them. Reining in half-formed emotions, she swallowed and looked at her step-daughter. "I don't know, love. Gerry just rang me and asked us to go down there. I don't know what's happened, he wouldn't tell me. Just… that your Dad's been hurt. And we need to go down and meet them there."

Mia nodded. She shuffled to get out of bed and set about dressing herself and finding Bella's bag. Sandra went out into the main living area of the flat and put on her boots. She checked that she had her keys and phone, slipping them into the pockets of her jacket rather than taking a bag.

They drove in silence, Sandra turning the radio off to alleviate the number of distractions to her mind. Drawing to a halt in the hospital car park, she got out of the car, scanning the area for any sign of Gerry's trademark Stag or Steve's Volvo. Mia silently pulled forward the passenger seat and unclipped Bella's seat from its base. Mindful of not re-awakening her daughter, she hoisted the bag in which she always kept nappies, a bottle and a spare set of clothes over her shoulder and lifted the seat. Closing the car door with her foot, she looked around the calm and deserted surroundings.

"Where do you… oh, that way?" Mia muttered as she noted, pointed and started to head toward the only doorway that was lit up. Sandra locked the car and followed her, rational thought being held only because of her adoptive daughter's presence.

The room was brightly lit, but seemed peaceful enough, only a few anxious people sat in the waiting area and they were accompanied by a handful of really bored looking people. They walked toward the desk.

"Sandra," Gerry's voice saved them from the aching confusion and fear surrounding their mental states.

They turned to see him walking toward them with his second-eldest daughter. "Hi. Hi Mia. Hello Bella!"

Sandra smiled in spite of herself as Gerry pulled a face at the rather confused baby who'd woken unbeknown to them and happily smiled back at the man with the silly face. She could tell that her friend was tired. Without knowing the exact circumstances, besides being past his bedtime, she knew that somehow everything had become his responsibility and only partly because he wouldn't allow anyone else to take it.

"Have you got her things?" he asked. It felt good just for a moment to be away from the hellish darkness that he couldn't control. This, he could organise. He could feel a satisfaction now in having made the call he needed to make, not having permitted anyone else to call her. Though he knew that satisfaction would be short-lived, it was worth it.

"Yeah," Mia took the bag off her shoulder.

"You remember Paula, don't you, my daughter?"

"Yeah, we met at the wedding," Mia recalled the occasion, nearly six weeks ago now. Her, Bella, Paula and Carrie at the buffet table; eyeing up the sausage rolls. It felt like forever ago. This was one of the strange situations where time took on a peculiar role making her feel like it had been five minutes ago and a year ago since Sandra had woken her up. It was barely half an hour.

"Right, Paula's going to take Bella back to mine, we've got a travel cot and everything, so that you and Sandra can stay with your dad for a while."

"Why?" Mia asked instantly. "Where is he?"

Gerry faltered. Sandra frowned, she'd heard the fear creep into Mia's voice. Hesitation was not her friend now. Paula stepped forward. "Here, let me take her. Come on Bella, we're going to go for another ride in the car, yes we are!" she looked between the other members of the group, tired, confused, lost. "Dad, I'll head off now, get the kids settled. Carrie's lads are already in the car. Ring me," she kissed his cheek. "Sandra, Mia…" she gave a reassuring smile. The sort she gave to relatives all the time, only this time it was sadder; because she knew them.

Sandra nodded and tried to offer a smile in reply before turning back to her friend. "Gerry…?"

She had never seen the cock-sure Cockney look so unsure of himself. She'd seen him shaken, hurt, bewildered before sure; worried too. But this moment surpassed all of those. She'd never seen him look so serious.

"Where's my Dad?" Mia asked again. Her voice was unsteady, anxious.

Gerry grabbed her introduction with both hands, clinging to the security that she'd asked as if it was the only thing he could rely on, his attentions had so far been on ringing people, organising things and taking control of a situation that had spiralled out of control so fast he, Steve and Nick had been left standing in the middle of the wasteland wondering if the quest for the Fisher King had ever been taken seriously.

"He's in intensive care," he said slowly, quietly; as if the words themselves would distance themselves so far away from him as quickly as any certainty the day had held had done. "He took a bit of beating and fell unconscious. They haven't brought him back round yet."

"Why?" the seventeen-year old asked.

"His body went into shock, they say, from the injuries. It's just a natural way of recovering sometimes. That's what they've said."

He was talking to Mia. He was looking at Mia. As if her presence made it easier for him to explain what had happened. Or an excuse to break it down to its simplest denominators for the purposes of elucidation. Sandra let him, it didn't anger her. Robert was Mia's father first, he always would be. She was thankful too that Mia seemed to be managing the situation far better than the two much older, much more seasoned people in the conversation. She herself couldn't trust herself to speak. Each word Gerry spoke jarred like a broken glass twisting in a recent wound and yet every word she heard sounded like it was being said in another dimension to another Sandra and Mia by another Gerry.

"Can we see him?" Mia asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take you down now," Gerry hesitated. He looked between them.

"It's ok," Mia smiled gently at the old man, she didn't understand – any of it. But what she did understand was that it was serious and that Gerry himself was scared and worried. And that somewhere, in the hospital, was her father. And he was hurt. "He's my dad."

Gerry nodded. Sandra could tell from the tightness of the set of his lips that he was finding it hard to grasp the situation. A thought at the back of her mind began to chime, though she couldn't think about that yet. She followed with Mia closely behind Gerry as he led them through the hospital to a corridor in Intensive Care which, in other circumstances, would look like a police coffee morning and be quite comical if it wasn't for the anxious faces and loaded armoury that was present beside the rapidly cooling polystyrene cups of caffeine. Several of the officers at the mouth of the corridor nodded toward Gerry, telling Sandra the police-woman that he was being recognised as one of the lead figures in command of the night now. For Sandra the wife however, it emphasised only the seriousness of the scene. Coming to a halt in front of a closed door, Gerry turned back to the two women behind him.

"He's in here," he said gently. It was a strange feeling, almost as if he was handing over one of his responsibilities. The weight of its relief would be both liberating and destructive. He wished he could save Sandra and Mia from it, but this was real life and he had to share it with them. "It might be a bit of a shock. Here," he motioned to the window of the room.

Standing next to Mia, Sandra took a breath before looking into the room. Beside her, Mia gasped despite her best efforts. Looking up, Sandra kept her gaze strong as she took in a sight that she had seen more times than she cared to remember as an officer but never as a wife. She felt a hand gently touch her arm and nodded as Gerry moved away. She looked to Mia, the fear and shock in the girl's eyes now freely on show as she leant in to her step-mother, who wrapped her arms around the girl and held her tenderly as they tried to absorb what they were seeing.

Until that moment, it hadn't been real. She had still been half expecting to see Robert limping toward them with a lop-sided grin, his hair a bit of a mess and a Mickey Mouse plaster stuck to his forehead. Seeing the man that she loved lying in hospital blankets, hooked up to a drip and a monitor with a tube in his mouth was about at the limit of what she could bear.