A/N: See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.
Chapter 2: Unashamed Tears
"I still can't believe it, Elizabeth," Hyacinth complained three days later as she poured coffee into a beaker for her best (and only!) friend and next-door neighbor, Elizabeth Warden. "What's the point of having an award and a ceremony in the first place if it's all going to be done in secret and we don't even get to know who the actual recipient is? It was such a waste of time."
"I wouldn't say that, Hyacinth. The award money went to a very good cause, after all. And I believe this woman, whoever she is, was probably deeply touched by the vicar's prayer for her safety at the end," Elizabeth said patiently.
"I agree with Elizabeth, Hyacinth," Richard, who was sitting at the kitchen table across from Liz, chimed in. "I mean, I know how disappointed you were that your sister Violet didn't win, but to be perfectly honest, I believe the vicar's wife was right to give the award to this special mystery lady, whoever she is. I mean, you do have to admit, Hyacinth, that secretly putting your safety at risk to help abused women and children escape from their abusers is a much bigger contribution to the community – and to all of humanity, really – than publicly donating a bunch of money to your church, just for a momentary reputation boost."
Hyacinth then sat down with her freshly poured beaker of coffee and responded in a huff, "A momentary reputation boost?! That is preposterous, Richard! Violet donated that money to our church because she cares about our community!"
"Maybe so, but you've got to admit, Hyacinth, that putting your safety at risk to help save lives is a much more significant contribution than just money," Richard argued.
"Well, I, for one, think that both financial contributions and the contributions this woman is making are equally important," said Liz. "With all due respect to our parish and to the vicar's wife, I've never been a very big fan of these Woman of the Year ceremonies. Quite frankly, I think they're rather foolish. I don't believe that giving back to the community, in whichever way one so chooses, should ever be a contest. People should give from the heart, because they care and because they truly want to help others in need, not to receive an award or accolades from other people. There are all kinds of silly little contests in this world. Mankind will always find a way to turn just about anything into a silly competition. But giving, whether it's giving of your time, your talents, or your money, is one thing that should never be turned into a contest or a competition."
"Hear, hear!" Richard heartily agreed while Hyacinth quietly stewed.
It took another two days, but Hyacinth eventually pulled herself back together and moved on with her life and continued impossible her quest to climb up the social ladder into aristocracy, just as she always did. After spending a fair amount of time sulking and complaining to Richard and Elizabeth, and even to Daisy and Rose, about how Violet had been robbed, she finally moved on to her next quest: trying to get herself invited to the birthday party of the wife of a rather prominent executive of a big business who had recently moved into town. Sonia Barker-Finch and her husband, the vicar and his wife, Hyacinth's friend, the Major, who always made passes at her, and several other people in town, had already been invited, and to Hyacinth, it would've been pure death if she didn't get herself invited as well.
"I know what I'll do, Richard," said Hyacinth at around three o'clock that Friday afternoon as she poured tea for both of them at their kitchen table. "The vicar's wife said that Mrs. Hamil will be attending the women's luncheon in our church hall after the service this Sunday. And I'll already be cooking several of the dishes. The vicar's wife tried to talk me out of it, but you know me. I wouldn't be dissuaded."
"Of course not," Richard said rather quietly, already feeling bad for the vicar's wife and all the poor women who would have to endure Hyacinth's presence that Sunday afternoon.
"I'll make certain that Mrs. Hamil knows which dishes are the ones I made. I know that when she tries them, she will immediately recognize my great culinary prowess, and that, in turn, will clue her in on the fact that I am an excellent hostess as well. And as soon as she recognizes my great culinary and social abilities, she will realize that I will be a tremendous asset to her in her own social life, and she won't hesitate to invite me to her birthday party next week. And Sonia Barker-Finch will be so furious, she won't be able to see straight. Then we'll see how much she brags about being invited to the birthday party of a prominent socialite in our neighborhood!"
"We'll see indeed," said Richard as he and his wife sipped their tea together.
After the vicar's sermon in the sanctuary of the church that Sunday, all the ladies met together in the church hall for their luncheon, and for all of the women there, including Mrs. Hamil, the new socialite in town whom Hyacinth was trying desperately hard to impress, the event was sheer murder. Hyacinth's sister Violet decided to attend the luncheon, and to Hyacinth's dismay, she also invited their slovenly sisters, Daisy and Rose, to the event. But neither the slovenly sisters whose mere presence alone embarrassed Hyacinth, nor any of the other ladies there, could get a word in edgewise as Hyacinth constantly dominated the conversation. She just would not stop chattering about Violet's big house with the swimming pool and room for a pony, or about her Royal Doulton with the hand-painted periwinkles, or about her white slimline telephone, or about all the dishes she made. It was downright painful to say the least.
But then all of a sudden, a six-foot-five, very muscular middle-aged man with graying black hair and brown eyes and pale skin, came walking into the church hall.
"May I help you, sir?" asked the vicar's wife.
"Is Elizabeth Warden here?" he asked.
Elizabeth then got up from her seat, walked up to him, and said "I'm Elizabeth Warden. What can I do for you?"
"There's something I need to give you, ma'am," he responded.
"Oh? What is it?" asked Elizabeth.
"This!" he yelled, and then he punched her as hard as he could, instantly knocking her unconscious. Elizabeth's limp body immediately collapsed to the floor as all the ladies in the room rose from their seats and cried out and gasped in horror in the background.
"I lost my wife, my whole life, because of you! Now it's your turn to suffer!" he yelled. And in the following moments, he punched her face and her chest over and over again as Hyacinth and all the other women cried helplessly.
But then at last, Daisy spotted the hot kettle of tea sitting on the table near her, and she suddenly thought to grab it, and she did. And in the next moments, she sneaked up on the monster beating Elizabeth's lifeless body, and she hit him on the head with it with every ounce of strength she could muster. The strength of the blow from Daisy caused the teapot to shatter and knock him unconscious as the hot tea splattered everywhere and burned his head and face. A little bit of the hot tea got on Daisy's right hand, but thankfully, her hand was mostly spared from it, while the beast in front of her got most of the burns.
"I'm going to call for the emergency services," the vicar's wife announced, and then she rushed out into the foyer of the church hall to make the call.
Daisy then got down on her knees and began gently shaking Elizabeth to try to wake her. "Liz!" Daisy cried out. "Liz! Elizabeth, can you hear me?" she frantically asked, but Elizabeth gave no response.
"Is she alright?!" asked a frantic Hyacinth.
"Oh God," Daisy gasped.
"What is it, Daisy?" Hyacinth questioned.
"She's not breathing," Daisy said with pure dread. "Oh, dear Lord, she's not breathing! All the punches she took to her chest must have stopped her heart!"
"Do something!" Marjorie cried out at the top of her lungs.
"Somebody, do something quick!" Phyllis screamed.
"Rose, your last boyfriend, that paramedic you dated, Scott, remember that CPR class he took us to last month?" asked Daisy.
"Yes, Daisy, I remember it," Rose answered while holding back tears. "I remember it all."
"Good. You give Elizabeth breaths and I'll handle the compressions."
"Right, Daisy," said Rose, and then she quickly got down on her knees beside Daisy, as did Hyacinth, and Rose and Daisy began performing CPR.
Over the next few minutes, Hyacinth, the vicar's wife, and all the other ladies in the church hall that day watched in pure horror as Daisy and Rose tried their best to resuscitate Elizabeth. During that time, two policemen arrived and carried the unconscious attacker out of the church hall into the back of their police car, and one cop drove away with him while the other came back into the church hall. And Daisy continued to pump on Elizabeth's chest and Rose tilted back her head, pinched her nose, and gave her a breath after every five compressions from Daisy, in absolute silence, with Hyacinth and all the other ladies quietly crying streams of tears. After the attacker was gone, the vicar's wife began leading the ladies in silent prayer as they all wept together. Hyacinth, however, remained on her knees beside Daisy, Rose, and Elizabeth, and she didn't get up to join hands with all the other ladies in prayer. She just stayed locked in place where she was, not daring to move a muscle, while crying quietly.
"Elizabeth, please," Hyacinth finally begged through all her tears. "Please, love. Please breathe. Please, please breathe. Sweet Lord Jesus, make her breathe, please. We need her. I need her. Please give her back to us. Please," she whispered.
The other cop then got down on his knees and told Daisy, "I'll take over the compressions for you, ma'am."
He then started doing the chest compressions while Rose continued giving Elizabeth breaths. This went on for about another minute, until finally, the paramedics arrived. As soon as the male paramedic and female paramedic came running into the church hall, both of them black, tall, and slender, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed cop stood up, along with Rose, Daisy, and Hyacinth, and he quickly explained the situation. In the next moment, the paramedics completely took over while everyone else stepped back so they could work on Elizabeth.
After putting electrodes on her chest and hooking her up to their portable heart monitor, the two paramedics determined that Elizabeth's heart was in a fatal heart rhythm called v-fib, which was short for ventricular fibrillation, a condition in which the heart merely quivers without actually pumping any blood.
"We're going to have to shock her," the female paramedic observed.
"Shock her?" said Hyacinth in disbelief.
"They have to get her heart started again, Hyacinth," Daisy explained in a whisper.
And as they grabbed their portable defibrillator and began sticking the pads onto Elizabeth's exposed chest, Hyacinth could no longer bear to watch, and she turned around and ran out into the foyer while the paramedics started delivering shocks to Elizabeth's heart to try to restart it.
As practically the entire parish anxiously waited together in the hospital waiting room for news, they all continued to cry silently and pray for Elizabeth. The paramedics were actually successful in their first attempt at shocking Elizabeth's quivering heart into beating again, but most unfortunately, she went back into cardiac arrest a couple of minutes after they loaded her up into the ambulance. Several minutes after they all arrived at the hospital, the male paramedic who'd brought Elizabeth there bumped into Emmet, who'd gone outside to take a little walk and clear his head. They got to talking about Elizabeth, and he informed him that his sister had re-arrested in the ambulance. And when Emmet went back inside to the hospital waiting room and told them, that's when the quiet crying and praying began in earnest.
It was now a quarter to four in the afternoon, and with it being the middle of November, it would be dark soon. It was already terribly dark in everyone's hearts that day. Dark with fear and dread.
"I can't believe it," Emmet said somberly. "I can't believe this is happening to my sister. This whole thing feels like a bad dream."
"This is terrifying. So very terrifying," said Hyacinth. "We cannot go any place anymore, not even the church hall. No place is safe."
"You and I have had our fair share of quarrels and disagreements, Hyacinth, but this time, I must agree with you," said Sonia Barker-Finch. "It's crazy to think that we can't even be safe in our own church anymore. What on earth is this crazy world coming to?"
"Vicar, you simply must begin looking into hiring security guards to protect parishioners," Hyacinth told him.
"We'll talk about that later, Mrs. Bucket," the vicar quietly responded in a surprisingly no-nonsense voice. "Right now, the only thing any of us need to concern ourselves with is praying for the health and well-being of our dear friend. Elizabeth's life and health are the only things that matter right now."
"Amen to that," Emmet agreed.
And for once in her life, Hyacinth Bucket actually had enough sense to recognize that now was the time for her to keep her mouth shut, and she did. Hyacinth finally shut up for once and behaved like a mature, sensible adult and stayed silent while continuing to pray for Elizabeth along with everyone else in the waiting room, even Onslow, who was typically a staunch atheist.
At long last, a doctor came out into the waiting room about thirty minutes later and called Elizabeth's name. Emmet and Hyacinth rose from their seats immediately and walked over to the tall, middle-aged, heavyset bald gentleman with gray eyes and a brown beard, wearing his white coat over his green hospital scrubs. The vicar, his wife, Richard, Daisy, Rose, and Onslow got up as well, but unlike Hyacinth, they maintained a respectful distance, wanting to give Emmet a bit of privacy as he spoke with the doctor about Elizabeth.
"How is my sister, doctor?" Emmet asked with a big lump in his throat. He was clearly struggling to keep from breaking down into tears.
"The blows Mrs. Warden received to her chest caused a myocardial contusion, which is just fancy medical jargon meaning that your sister's heart muscle has been bruised. This, in turn, caused Mrs. Warden to go into a form of cardiac arrest called ventricular fibrillation, which is where the heart quivers instead of pumping blood."
"I'm aware of that."
"How much do you know about your sister's medical history, Mr. …?"
"Hawksworth. Emmet Hawksworth."
"Mr. Hawksworth."
"Liz doesn't like to advertise this. She's always kept it a secret from everyone. But when she was away in London visiting her daughter Gail for several weeks last summer, she…" Emmet started to say, but then he turned his glance towards Hyacinth for a brief moment, who was paying extremely close attention to every word that was being said. Then, after realizing that Hyacinth wasn't about to butt out and give him a moment of privacy with the doctor, and after realizing that taking the risk of offending the Queen Mother and starting an argument over it simply was not worth it, he continued, telling the doctor, "My sister suffered a mild heart attack."
"A heart attack?!" Hyacinth cried out in disbelief. "Elizabeth never once said anything about a heart attack!"
"That's because Liz is a very private person, Hyacinth," said Emmet, who was now beginning to show a little irritation. (In fact, he was now exercising tremendous self-control and self-restraint as he fought the urge to lose his temper and start arguing with his impossible neighbor.) "She doesn't like to advertise her personal problems to everyone." Unlike some people, he then thought to himself.
"Given Mrs. Warden's medical history, it makes sense that the contusion to her heart muscle, which has already been damaged from the previous heart attack, would make her more susceptible to cardiac arrest. Thankfully, after she arrested a second time in the ambulance, and a third time in the trauma room, we finally were able to get her heart beating in a normal sinus rhythm again."
"Oh, thank God," Emmet gasped as tears of relief came to his eyes.
"Yes, thank God," Hyacinth agreed.
"Unfortunately, your sister isn't out of the woods yet. Not by a longshot. She's in the ICU now, and she's in extremely critical condition."
"So you're saying…you're basically saying that…we could still lose her," Emmet said solemnly.
"That is correct. You mentioned a daughter?"
"Yes, that's right. Liz has a daughter, Gail. She graduated from college earlier this year and moved to New York. She's a fashion designer, and she took a job at a big fashion magazine there."
"Is your sister married?"
"Yes, but she's legally separated from her husband. He works at an oil company in Saudi Arabia."
"Are the three of you the only family she has?"
"Yes, we are."
"Well, I would strongly suggest that you get in touch with Mrs. Warden's husband and daughter and advise them to come here as quickly as possible. Mrs. Warden's condition could improve, and she could recover. It's not impossible. But to be perfectly honest, the odds are against it. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are the most critical, and there's a strong chance that they will, in fact, be your sister's final hours. I'm sorry, Mr. Hawksworth. I'm really very sorry."
Devastated, Emmet simply stumbled back over to his seat in the waiting room, buried his head in his hands, and openly allowed himself to cry, unashamed of his tears.