His face was then suddenly interrupted with an eagerness. "M'lady, what about Mr Crawley? The nurses would tell me nothing! I've been told nothing at all, all I know is that it sounds bad. The last thing I remember was him lying next to you on the grass, he looked- he looked..."

It was like Bernes had practically thrown an iron at her chest, she was crippled again, after feeling light for the first time in weeks.

"Oh," Edith's voice was wobbly and only semi-audible. "I don't know, there's bad news, and I haven't even seen him yet, I was going to. I can't believe he's - he's - and now Mary could lose everything and-"

"What do you mean?" Bernes stopped her softly.

"He's in a coma. They don't know how bad the damage is." She blinked at her hands. Who was this new Edith who cried at every interval of conversation? She refused to open her eyes and willed the salty water to go back inside her head.

"Right." He heard the words and hardly comprehended them, he knew Matthew had taken the crash the worst but the shock Jason now felt was surreal.

"Which is why I need to see him." Edith stood up and inhaled. She moved towards Jason and absently put a hand through his hair, it now reached past his ears. His eyebrows were upturned in making sense of the news. She almost bent down and kissed him, the instinct confused her, she slowly pivoted and left the ward.

...

This golf ball had been lodged in Edith's throat for so many days now, it felt like part of her anatomy. She gulped as she was lead to the room containing Mr Crawley, and the ball sat heavy and awkwardly inside her ribs, it seemed to be squeezing her heart which sent cries for help, she could hear it beat in her ears.

The first thing she saw was Mary's back, which was turned, she was facing Matthew who became more visible from behind the bedframe as Edith walked into the room. Mary turned around briefly, her expression registered surprise at seeing Edith, and so many other things which Edith was afraid to interpret.

"Should you be here?" Mary spoke to the wall.

"Yes. I should."

"I don't think Dr Clarkson will like it."

"Damn Dr Clarkson, Mary... I heard the news."

"What news? The news that my husband may never wake up or the news that if he does, he probably won't remember me?" Mary swallowed, she spoke coldly. She knew she was torturing Edith. She knew she was speaking like this out of spite, because she could, because she was in so much pain.

"You know - that I blame myself for this!" Edith bleated.

There was silence.

"I know." Mary closed her eyes and sighed. She could hear Matthew telling her to stop being so venomous, she could hear him telling her that nobody was guilty. "I know... that you blame yourself. Well, so do I!" Her voice cracked and she collapsed, her face was in her hands, her mouth open and eyes shut. She couldn't breath, no sound escaped her as she stifled a wail.

Edith walked over and sat in the empty chair next to Mary. Normal sisters would put arms around each other, Edith could only afford to be parallel in feeling. She closed her eyes too and whispered "I'm so terribly, terribly sorry." She gasped "I'm sorry Matthew!"

They grieved together for five long minutes, until they were able to take deep breaths and wipe their tears.

"You look dreadful, you know," Mary chided benignly, and coughed.

Edith smiled grimly. "I feel it, too."

"This is all so hateful." Mary shook her head.

"Where's Isobel by the way?"

"Oh, I told her to get some rest."

"So should you, I'll stay with him."

"Oh... alright," Mary sighed and stood up, she walked slowly to the door. She was lifeless.

Edith looked back at Matthew, he was thoughtful and still. His face was less bruised than her own and Bernes's, but she could see that the injuries started from his collar-bone.

In that moment, through her fogged vision she thought she saw his Adam's apple move upwards. She opened her eyes wider and sat up.

It moved again, and now his brows were furrowed. "Mary wait!"

"What?"

"I, I think he's - just come back here!"

Matthew made a croaking sound.

Mary rushed back to the side of the bed and stared down sat him, transfixed and vulnerable.