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Chapter Seven
Tom was pacing in the waiting room. He was at his wits end with worry. No one had come to speak with him recently about the condition of his daughter and as the time passed he grew more and more concerned.
Mary had come into the waiting room awhile ago to tell everyone of George's condition. He was seriously hurt, but was doing well enough. He was awake and had his wits about him and for that Tom was grateful.
Lord and Lady Grantham had accompanied their daughter back to the room to speak with George just to convince them that he was not departed. Tom knew they were as worried as anyone was. They had two grandchildren in this hospital right now and the relief that one of them was alright lifted some weight from their shoulders. Hearing nothing about Sybbie terrified him but he was happy enough for the rest of the family that at least one of them was satisfactory.
He kept glancing at the clock, unsure of why knowing the time would keep his mind occupied but it seemed to give him something to focus on. On one of his pacing passes he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see a very worried looking John Bates looking him in the eye.
"What's the word on Emma? Will she be alright?" Tom shook the valets hand in respect and unconsciously rubbed the bandage on his arm from his blood donation.
"She's very hurt, but we think she will survive. She's gone for a transfusion and they are going to operate on her arm. Or what's left of it anyway." John explained to the younger man whom he had known well for so many years.
"She lost her arm? Oh John. I'm so sorry! That is terrible." Tom looked horrified.
"At least she will still be here with us for awhile longer. The blood will help her. At least that's what the doctor tells us. I have to thank you so much for your donation for her. Anna and I will be eternally grateful. You saved her life Tom. We owe you. More than we can ever repay."
John looked the younger man in the eye to make sure that his gratitude was expressed sincerely.
"It was nothing. It was the least any of us would do for family. You have to know that."
"It wasn't nothing. It was everything."
Their conversation was interrupted by a shuffle at the door and the two constables who had been loitering around the hospital since the victims had been brought in strode into the room.
"Have you heard anything about Sybbie?" Tom begged them for some news.
"No Mr. Branson. We were going to ask you the same thing." They could tell by the look on Tom's face that he knew no more than they did about the young Miss Branson.
"But... while both of you are here, we have an important question to ask both of you." The taller of the two constables spoke directly to the two men in the room.
When he was given the affirmative in reply he spoke solemnly to Bates and Tom.
"We have learned that Master George Crawley was driving the vehicle involved in the accident. We have spoken to him and have decided that we are not going to press any charges against him, but as the families of the victims, you have a right to demand charges be laid upon him."
The two men stood there in shock for a few minutes. Speechless. Tom hadn't known George well for the past few years and John hadn't had much contact with him since George had been away at school, but neither of them could believe that he had been so irresponsible as to cause the accident that had seriously wounded both of their daughters. They were in shock. Again.
Tom was the first to speak. No matter what happened with Sybbie, he would not blame George for causing anything. Tom knew he would be damaged enough emotionally knowing he had caused such pain to Sybbie and Emma. It wouldn't serve him well to have a life damaged by criminal charges. He explained his opinion to the officers while John stood with his chin in his hand. When Tom had finished speaking, they all looked to John Bates for his opinion.
He stood silent for a few minutes more. Tom could see the usual lightheartedness that was often in his eyes was replaced by a dark look. His whole persona seemed to shift to darkness and it worried Tom. There had been so much speculation years ago when the man who had assaulted his wife had ended up dead that Bates had something to do with it. Tom had never believed it before, but the shift in the man standing there startled him a bit.
"Mr. Bates? We need to know how you feel about this matter."
"I don't wish to have him charged." He breathed the words out through clenched teeth.
"Alright. We'll leave you two as you were. We are so very sorry that this has happened to your families and we'll be close by if you have any questions." The Constables turned and left the room leaving the two men standing there.
Tom was completely unsure what Bates was really thinking and he was a tiny bit afraid of what was going on in the older man's head by the look on his face.
A doctor interrupted his thoughts and beckoned him to the doorway. He went straight away, suddenly being more concerned about his daughter again than the conversation that had just occurred.
The doctor led him away to explain his daughter's situation and as he went he caught out of the corner of his eye that Bates had stormed out of the waiting room as fast as his limp would let him. He headed outside.
Tom was momentarily torn about whether he should be concerned about where Bates was heading and finally getting any news about his daughter. He turned his back on whatever situation was arising and followed the doctor towards his little girl.
He was led down a long hallway and into a small room at the end.
The doctor stopped him before he entered the room completely.
"Mr. Branson. I have to tell you that your daughter's injuries are quite serious. I don't want to give you any false hope, we're not sure how she is still alive now. She has sustained a number of broken ribs and internal injuries from the accident. We don't think by looking at the x-rays that she has punctured the lung sacs and this is possibly the only reason she is still alive. We can't tell the extent of her internal injuries. Time will indicate that there is more severe damage unless we do an exploratory surgery and attempt to repair any damage."
"Why won't you do it?" Tom had tears in his eyes and they kept glancing further into the room where he suspected his daughter was laying prone.
"Because I don't know if she will survive the surgery right now. Her blood pressure is very low and her pulse is fluctuating. I need you to understand how tenuous the situation is right now." The doctor put his hand on Tom's crossed arms. "I need you to decide if you want us to chance the surgery to see about her internal injuries."
Tom thought for a few seconds. "What if you don't do the surgery?"
"I feel she will not survive, but I can't be certain enough to declare it matter of factually. I feel that there is internal bleeding that we must repair if it's not too seriously far gone, but the risk of the surgery is very great right now. I need to know that you understand this." The Doctor stared at Tom.
"How long do I have to think about it?" Tom kept glancing into the room again.
"A few minutes perhaps. If you would like to discuss it with Lord Grantham, now would be the time."
"It's not his decision to make. I am her father. Can I see her? Please. I beg you..." By the look on Tom's face, no one would have denied his request.
"Of course. She's right in here, but please, we need to act soon if you wish us to act at all."
Tom went to the foot of the bed and stared at the being on the bed. She was not recognizable to him other than her long dark hair that puffed out the top of the bandages wrapped around her face. He felt his knees go weak, but he fought through it.
He crept closer to her and dared to reach out for her hand. The nurse that was tending his daughter saw his hesitation and encouraged him to take her hand in his.
He did, and the warmth that he felt in her skin made the tears spring from his eyes.
"Oh Sybbie! You can't leave me now! Do you hear me? You must stay for me!" His voice broke repeatedly as he spoke and the nurse reached across Sybbie to place her hand gently on his hand holding his daughter's.
"She's strong Mr. Branson. I'm amazed she's still here with us. She's a fighter."
Tom looked across at the nurse. She had the type of face that you could trust. He considered himself a fairly good judge of character and he sensed this woman would not fib to him.
"What should I do?" Tom begged her for an opinion.
"That Doctor is one of the best in the county. If anyone can bring her round, it's him." She nodded with her jaw towards the door as she took Sybbie's pulse. "I don't think she'll make it without the surgery. But that's just my opinion."
The nurse went down to the foot of the bed and scratched something quickly on the chart hanging there.
Tom leaned over his daughter placed his ear close to her exposed mouth. He could feel her breath on his cheek, but it was slow and ragged. It worried him.
When he looked back up the Doctor was standing opposite him on the other side of the bed. His look was one of slight urgency.
"What do you think Mr. Branson?"
"If we do nothing she will die?" Tom's eyes were red and swollen.
"I believe so yes."
"And if we go ahead with surgery she might die anyway?"
"There is a chance."
"Well, we lost her mother by doing nothing so I think we have no choice but to take the chance."
The Doctor immediately signalled to the nurse to prepare Sybbie for her short journey down the hall to the operating theatre.
Before they could take her away, Tom leaned over his only child and whispered to her,
"I want you to meet your mother, but not today darling. Please not today. I love you so much."
As the medical staff left the room with his daughter he sat on the chair by the window and buried his face in his hands to pray harder than he ever had before.
It wasn't long that he was left sitting there before he heard a commotion coming from the hallway. He went to the doorway and looked out but he didn't see anything. He heard raised voices and crept out to see what was going on.
He went down the hall a ways and came to the room where the voices were coming from. He looked in to see Lord Grantham holding back an enraged Mr. Bates.
The man with the cane was shouting at the person on the bed but Mary and her mother had gotten between the man and the boy who had accidentally put them all there.
"It's your fault my daughter is maimed for life! You had to be out driving like a spoiled little prince without any care for your actions!" Bates was livid at George.
Tom jumped into the room and tried to pull the man back from the bed. No one had ever seen John act this way.
"Bates! This is completely inappropriate! Stand down Man!" Robert was also trying to pull Bates back from the bed, but despite his disability the man was proving hard to be moved in his current state of emotion.
"I just want him to look me in the eye and explain how he drove into a helpless little girl on the road..."
Tom looked at the bed and saw George for the first time since the accident. He looked nothing like the handsome boy he had seen only that morning at breakfast. He looked rough, and even though he had been responsible for the incident, he didn't deserve to be attacked. Not now.
Tom and Robert eventually managed to get the furious man out the door and into the hallway.
They pulled him to the main waiting area where the two constables who had been lingering about took over the struggle from the two men and dragged Bates outside with a word from Robert to treat him gently. He was clearly out of his mind
Robert and Tom stood there for a minute trying to catch their breath, amazed at what had just transpired. That was not the Bates they knew, but inwardly both of them felt his pain. Robert had lost a daughter and Tom was possibly on the verge of losing his. They couldn't fault the man for wanting to lay blame.
"Do you blame George for this too?" Robert straightened his jacket and attempted to tidy himself.
"I don't know..." was Tom's reply.
"How is Sybbie?"
"I don't know..."
To be continued: