Puzzle Pieces
Part Three
As Connie got out of Ric's car, she slightly stumbled. Pulling her arm through his, Ric said with a smile,
"We don't want people thinking you're drunk."
"Believe me," Connie said a little bitterly. "That would be preferable to anyone knowing the truth."
"Connie, I'm not expecting you to believe me," Ric said as they walked down the long corridor towards the lift, "but you really don't have anything to be ashamed of."
"I'd really rather not have that argument in such public surroundings," Connie told him, desperately hoping that any of the staff she worked with on a daily basis didn't see her in her less than usual state of authority.
Suddenly, Connie stopped. Turning to see why, Ric immediately caught the far-away look in her eyes, the slightly hazy glazed stare, but this time with such a heightened terror in them that his first reaction was to put his arms round her, and guide her toward an abandoned wheelchair not far from them. But Connie started to struggle.
"No," She said, trying to detach him from her. "Where are you taking me?" Thankfully her voice was fairly low in the echoing corridor. If it had been any louder, she might have attracted the attention of someone whom he knew she would rather not become aware of her current condition.
"Connie, it's all right," he tried to reassure her. "You're perfectly safe."
"No, no," She insisted vehemently. "Please, please just leave me alone." It broke Ric's heart to hear this strong-minded, beautiful woman begging someone only she could see in her mind's eye not to hurt her. Just at this moment, she had no idea that he wasn't the total bastard who had drugged and most likely raped her. Ric briefly wondered if she would even allow him to treat any injuries she had. Eventually cajoling her to sit down in the thankfully clean wheelchair, Ric crouched down so that he was on a level with her and took her hands in his.
"Connie, look at me," He all but pleaded with her. "Can you do that? Just try to open your eyes and focus on me." He gently squeezed her hands as he said this, trying to get through to her by touch as well as by his voice.
When her gaze finally cleared, she looked incredibly confused and as though she was valiantly struggling not to cry.
"I'm sorry," She said timidly, feeling thoroughly ashamed of being so vulnerable in front of someone she worked with, day in day out. But Ric wasn't just a colleague, was he. After all, would she really have found out everything about Tandy when she knew Ric was about to marry a fake if he had only been one of her colleagues? She knew that she would only ever have done that for someone she considered perhaps a friend. But this wasn't the time to be reflecting on the different avenues of shared history.
"How do you feel?" Ric asked, getting to his feet.
"Like death warmed up," She said morosely, not commenting on the fact that he was pushing her towards the lift. She loathed feeling so weak and pathetic, but her extreme dizziness made this precaution a necessary one.
When they reached Darwin ward, all was relatively quiet. Glancing over to the nurses' station, Ric saw that Joseph was the only person who might observe their entry into Connie's office.
"Do you have your keys?" Ric asked quietly, prompting Connie into searching in her jacket pocket. When she held them up, Ric let them into Connie's office, relieved that they so far hadn't been asked any awkward questions. Helping Connie out of the wheelchair, Ric persuaded her down onto her leather sofa, noticing the way she tensed when he touched her.
"Are you cold?" He asked, observing a slight shiver from her.
"I keep alternating between boiling and freezing," She said, wrapping her arms around herself, for warmth or for protection Ric wasn't sure.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" he asked, thinking that as well as warming her up, it might have something of a calming effect as well.
"Yes please," She replied, "though the way I feel, I'm not sure it'll stay down."
"Then I'll find you some Cyclozine," He told her, referring to the most commonly given anti-sickness drug.
"That would be much appreciated," Connie replied, feeling an immense level of gratitude for everything that Ric was doing for her.
Leaving the wheelchair folded up and out of the way near the lift, Ric walked confidently towards the nurses' station and the drugs' cupboard, as though he had every reason in the world to be there at nearly three thirty in the morning. But remembering that the Cyclozine injections would obviously be kept in the fridge, Ric diverted towards the ward kitchen. Joseph had observed Ric and Connie's arrival, and Ric's exit from Connie's office not too much later. So when Ric went into the ward kitchen, Joseph decided to follow him.
Whilst he was rooting in the fridge for the Cyclozine injections, almost with the determination of someone with the munchies, he was startled by the voice at his shoulder.
"May I ask what you and Connie are doing here at this time of the morning?" Finally seeing what he wanted, Ric stood up and turned to face Joseph.
"That would take some explaining," he told Joseph candidly. "And it really isn't my place to break a confidence."
"I see," Joseph replied, though not really seeing at all. Taking a different approach, he said, "Connie didn't look too good when you wheeled her into her office not so long ago."
"She isn't," Ric told him sombrely, suddenly wanting to tell someone what had happened, almost needing someone to share some of the burden.
"I can be the soul of discretion if necessary," Joseph affirmed, seeing how much strain Ric was obviously under. Putting the retrieved injection down on the kitchen table to warm up slightly before it was used, Ric filled the kettle and began to make two mugs of tea, waving a third mug in Joseph's direction and receiving a nod in reply.
When the mugs were filled and Ric had handed one to Joseph, he took a sip of the scalding liquid and began.
"I received a call from Connie, at about one thirty this morning, and the question she wanted an answer to was how long does Rohypnol hang around for. It didn't take much persuasion for her to tell me that she thought Rohypnol was what she had been given. So, I phoned Sam, because Connie couldn't remember her own address and because if I was going to bring Connie to the hospital, someone would have to stay with Grace. So, we both went to Connie's house, and I brought her here, to take some blood to see if there's any Rohypnol still in her system."
"And how is she?" Joseph asked, feeling an enormous wave of sympathy for his boss, wanting to also do his bit to help her.
"Some of the time she's not too bad, just dizzy and desperately trying to hide how upset she is. Then, because I'm assuming she does still have some Rohypnol in her system, she'll totally switch off. Her mind will be somewhere else and she won't know where she is or who you are. It's incredibly frightening for her when she does this, because I think she's remembering bits of what happened to her."
"What are you going to do?" Joseph asked, thoughtfully regarding the tea in his cup as though it could provide him with some answers.
"I'm going to take some blood, and somehow get that down to the lab. Then, I'm going to try to treat any injuries she might have, that is of course if she will let me, and then I'm going to do my damnedest to persuade her to talk."
"I don't envy you that," Joseph observed mildly.
"It's the only way she can begin to deal with it," Ric said quietly but firmly. "Over the next few days, possibly weeks, she's going to be having flashbacks of what happened, coupled with gradually returning memories. Helping her to talk about as much as she can now, will speed up that process, and eventually make it easier to move on with her life."