You Know Me So Well

By Olivia Sutton

Part 2

The ambulance quickly reached the hospital and Jeff was rushed through the busy A & E department. Marty followed the trolley along until Jeff was wheeled into the treatment area. A nurse grabbed his arm and pushed him out of the way.

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't enter the treatment ward, you'll need to wait in the designated area."

"He's me best mate! And me business partner! Please!" said Marty, turning his most pleading look on the nurse.

"The doctors' need space to work, someone will be out to talk to you as soon as possible."

"Right, where can I wait?" asked Marty.

The nurse pointed to a row of white, plastic chairs, "Over there for now, if anything changes, someone will inform you."

Marty nodded, then reluctantly turned away and sat on one of the chairs against the wall.



Sometime later, a doctor came out and approached Marty. "Sir, I'm Doctor Honeycutt, you're waiting for word on Mr. Randall?"

Marty stood, "Doctor, is Jeff... he's all right, isn't he?"

"Sir... What's your name?"

"Marty, Marty Hopkirk, Jeff's me best mate, and we're in business together. Is he all right?"

"He's stable. Mr. Hopkirk, your friend apparently intentionally took a large amount of alcohol and a large dose of prescription pain medication. We pumped his stomach, and he's currently undergoing dialysis to remove the dangerous substances from his blood. Also, he hit his head on the floor... it doesn't seem serious at the moment but he will require observation. Once the dialysis is done he'll be moved to the lockdown ward for treatment."

Marty listened, trying to take in everything the doctor said, but he was still hearing the doctor's first words in his mind, "You're... you're saying it wasn't an accident, aren't you?" he asked, quietly.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Do you have any idea why Mister Randall would..."

Marty interrupted, "He wouldn't...not Jeff, he couldn't have..."

"The evidence suggests..."

"Well, you're wrong then..."

"Sir, I'm sorry, but..." Dr. Honeycutt looked away, then looked at Marty, "Denial from family and friends doesn't help the patient in situations like this...Do you know why Mister Randall took an intentional overdose? Do you have any idea? It would help in his treatment."

Marty took a deep breathe, "No, I... Bollocks... I leave for a week and everything turns to... Wait..." Marty snapped his fingers... "I think I know who might know sommat. His fiancée, Freya... the last thing Jeff told me was that he was working a case for Freya... That's got to be it. She must know something about this."

"Can you contact her?" asked Dr Honeycutt.

"Oh, I'll contact her all right," Marty's eyes glittered, "When can I see him, Doctor?"

"It will be a few hours before he's transferred to a bed in psychiatric and ready to receive visitors."

"And I can see him then?"

"He doesn't have any relatives in London?"

"No, his mother's in Middlesbrough, I'd better phone her. Look, doctor," Marty said, grabbing Dr. Honeycutt's arm, "Jeff's been me mate since we were schoolboys. We've been through a lot. You have to let me see him," Marty let go, "As soon as possible."

The doctor looked at Marty and his earnest expression. "All right, give me your details, and I'll write a note that you're allowed to see him as if you were family. Visiting time is severely limited for psychiatric patients as you can imagine..."

"I need to see him, Doctor, talk to him. I have to understand why Jeff did this, so I can help him."

"He should be in a recovery room in a few hours. I'll leave word you can see him then," Dr. Honeycutt looked at Marty with concern in his hazel eyes, "Until then, my professional opinion is that you get out of here. Call Mr. Randall's mother and his fiancée, get a little rest, bring back some comfortable clothes for Mr. Randall, whatever, but get out of here. You need the break, Mr. Hopkirk."

Marty looked at him, "Well..."

"You need a break, Mr. Hopkirk, and there is nothing you can do here, until we've completed the dialysis treatment and settled Mr. Randall into his room. Then he will need you, if you are mates as you say," the doctor ignored Marty's beginning words of protest, "He will need you, rested, thinking clearly, and able to bear whatever he has to tell you," the Doctor paused, looking away, then added, "I can tell you care, Mr. Hopkirk, you can best help your mate by taking care of yourself. Come back in a few hours."

Marty nodded, "All right," he stuck out his hand, "Thanks, doctor."

"You're welcome," the doctor shook his hand, then turned on his heel and left.



Marty walked out of the hospital and phoned a cab on his mobile, it was cold outside and the sun was now setting. Marty walked up and down near the hospital entrance, waiting for the cab, thinking, No, I can't keep putting this off, I need to call her, she needs to know what's happened. Marty closed his eyes a moment, thinking back to his teenaged years when he had moved in with Jeff and his family, following...Marty shuddered at the thought, then purposely did not allow himself to dwell on what had caused him to leave his own mother's house and move in to Jeff's family home. Over time, however, whilst living in the Randall home, Marty had became especially close to Jeff's mother. Even now, living in London, he maintained contact with Mrs. Randall, a woman he often called "mum", because she was closer to him than his own mother. No, she has to know, and I have to be the one to tell her, Marty thought. With regret, he punched a memorised number on his mobile.

The phone rang, then a warm, friendly, Northern-accented voice said, "Hello?"

"Mrs. Randall, it's Marty."

"Marty, well, hello. You haven't phoned for some time, how are you?"

"I know, I'm sorry, Mrs. Randall, Mum, I'm fine..." Marty broke off.

"Marty, there's nothing wrong, is there?"

"Um... Mrs. Randall... Mum... I..." Marty choked-up, unable to continue.

"Marty, what's wrong?"

"It's Jeff, Mrs. Randall, Mum, it's Jeff..." Marty broke off again.

"Something's happened. Oh, god, something's happened to Jeff. Tell me."

"He's in hospital... I ... I don't really know what happened. I don't know, Mrs. Randall, Mum, I was in Leeds on a case, I wasn't here. But I told him, I said, 'No cases whilst I'm gone,' but... I should have insisted he come with me. I am so sorry, Mrs. Randall, Mum, I am so sorry," Marty babbled, tears in his voice and his eyes.

"Marty?" asked Mrs. Randall, "Marty--What happened? He's my son, Marty, please tell me."

Marty paused, looking up at the darkening sky, and was about to say something when he heard Mrs. Randall speak.

"Are you there?"

"I'm here, Mum, I'm...here. No, Mum, I haven't been allowed to see him yet, he's still in treatment. The doctors kicked me out; they said come back in a few hours. Mum, he... I don't know how to tell you this...he...Jeff..." Marty left off.

"Marty, take a deep breath, calm down a minute, then tell me. Now, where are you?"

"I'm standing outside the hospital, I'm waiting for a cab to take me back to the office, I rode in the ambulance with Jeff to hospital," Marty said, pacing as he talked.

"All right, Marty, all right," said Mrs. Randall calmly, "Now, which hospital, Marty? Where should I come and see him?"

"Central London."

"All right, Central London Hospital, I'll be there straight away, Marty, " Mrs. Randall said, then she added quietly, "Now, can you tell me any more about what happened? Please, Marty he's my son, I need to know."

Marty took a deep breath, "Mrs. Randall, Mum, he... oh god, he took an overdose-- his pain tablets and alcohol, he was unconscious on the floor in the office when I found him," Marty answered.

"Oh, no, Marty, I'm sorry..."

Marty interrupted her, "You're sorry? If I had only insisted he come to Leeds with me this never would have happened!"

"Do you know...?"

"No, I don't. I suspect something happened with Freya. I'm going to try to find her."

"All right, Marty, now listen, I'll be there as soon as I can," she paused, "Is there a way I can contact you?"

"Phone me on my mobile," Marty paused, then read the number off to her, "Mrs. Randall, Mum, I'll phone you back once I know something, I will."

"Marty, I don't have one of those new mobile phones. I'll phone you, all right?"

"Yah, that's fine."

"Marty?" said Mrs. Randall, softly.

A cab pulled up next to Marty, "Mum, my cab's here, I've got to go."

"All right. Marty, he'll be all right, I know it."

"I know, I know, Mum, I'm sorry, I've got to go, I'll call. No, wait, you call me. Bye, Mum."

"Bye, Marty."

Marty clicked off the phone and stepped into the cab, giving the driver the address of his office.