the seat to make room for them, and once Niall had jumped inside next to his father in the front, Michael turned on the ignition and backed out of the drive.
Katie immediately bunched up to her mother, and put her arm through hers, wanting the comfort and security of her closeness.
Maureen was well aware of Katie’s neediness tonight, and it was understandable. All of the girl’s defences were down, and she was still in shock, vulnerable and hurting, and wanting to be with her parents, her mother in particular.
No one spoke.
Michael drove towards New Preston and lovely little Lake Waramaug, heading for Route 202 which would take them directly to New Milford and the hospital.
Usually when they were in the jeep together they chattered and laughed, told silly jokes, and sometimes they sang their favourite songs, for they were all musically talented. Niall, in particular, had a wonderful voice that made every one of them stop singing the instant he opened his mouth, so they could listen to him. Fin said Niall had missed his way and ought to be in musicals, or a pop star, but they just laughed at Fin, most especially Niall.
But this evening the jeep was quiet and sad, the baleful silence engendered by shock and worry. And fear, of course, on Maureen’s part. She knew, deep down within herself, that she was terribly afraid for Katie’s safety, although she had not voiced this to Michael, nor to Katie herself, as yet.
Maureen Byrne was nobody’s fool, and she knew there was a deadly killer out there, on the loose. Perhaps he was some kind of madman, a psycho.
And how did they know that this psycho wouldn’t seek out Katie next? Perhaps he had intended to kill all three girls, but had been cheated out of one. Yes, there was still one left to kill. Her Katie. Her beloved only daughter. Maureen’s mouth went dry and there was a hollowness in the pit of her stomach as she contemplated the horrendous possibilities.
Such dire and troubling thoughts appalled Maureen, but she knew she must not push them to one side. Common sense told her she must deal with the situation in a direct manner, discussing it with Katie, as well as her husband. Despite her daughter’s feyness, her artistic turn of mind, her innocence, and lack of experience of life, she did happen to have a practical side to her nature. This trait had always pleased Maureen, reassured her that her daughter had good judgement, and that this would help her to make the right choices in life.
It now struck Maureen that Katie would be the first one to understand that she must be careful, that she must be street-smart, and not put herself at risk. Instantly, this realization brought a bit of relief, but she would have a proper talk with her about everything later, that was essential. At this moment, though, Carly’s condition, and the seriousness of her injuries were uppermost in everyone’s minds, and to discuss anything else would appear horribly selfish.
As if zeroing in on her mother’s thoughts, Katie leaned closer to Maureen, and said, in such a low voice it was almost a whisper, ‘Do you think Carly’s going to die, Momma?’
Maureen turned to look at Katie, and then she put an arm around her daughter’s shoulder and brought her closer.
‘I hope not, mavourneen. But we must be honest with ourselves, accept the seriousness of her injuries, not push them under the rug because they frighten us. ‘Tis important we face them. Head injuries of this nature can be fatal. On the other hand, they may be superficial, not as serious as we’ve been led to believe. The best thing is to be positive, and believe that Carly is going to get better. We’re also going to pray that she’s as good as new, not impaired in any way.’
Katie sat bolt-upright. ‘Mom, I hadn’t thought about that! Oh God, brain damage. Carly could end up…a vegetable.’ An involuntary shiver shot through the seventeen-year-old girl, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, suddenly more than ever afraid for her dearest friend.
Maureen took hold of Katie’s hand, and said, ‘Try not to worry, Katie, darlin’. And don’t forget what I’ve forever drummed into you…there’s nothing worse than anticipatory despair, ‘tis debilitating, for one thing, and a waste of precious time for another. So let’s not start anticipating anything. Let’s hold positive thoughts, and hope that Carly’s going to be her old self in no time at all. And we must be there for her as much as we can.’
‘Yes, Mom, we must. We’ll all rally round for Carly,’ Katie swiftly asserted, her natural courage coming to the fore.
‘She could end up in a coma like that woman Sunny von Bulow,’ Finian said, leaning forward around Katie, so he could look at his mother through his thick glasses. ‘And she’s never going to come out of it.’
‘Be quiet!’ Maureen hissed, waving her finger reprovingly at her youngest child. She never knew what he was going to come out with.
‘There are a few press people over by the door,’ Michael said to them as he drove up to New Milford Hospital and parked the jeep at the kerb. ‘But they don’t know who we are, or our involvement, so we’ll just walk in quietly. Don’t look at them, especially you, Fin. And all of you, stick close to me.’
‘We will, Dad,’ Finian promised, sounding excited.
‘Come on then, let’s go!’ Maureen said. Quickly taking charge, she opened the door, got out, then waited for Fin and Katie to alight from the jeep. She immediately took hold of Fin’s hand, even though he wasn’t too happy about this, considering it babyish. He struggled; she held him.
The Byrne family, huddled together, went through the front door of the hospital in a tight-knit little group. Once inside, Michael walked over to the desk where a nurse was on duty; the others trailed along, stood waiting patiently behind him.
‘Good evening,’ Michael said.
The nurse glanced up at him, half smiled, nodded.
‘We’re friends of Mrs Smith,’ he explained. ‘Mrs Janet Smith. She’s here because of her daughter, Carly, who’s in intensive care.’
‘Yes,’ the nurse replied, and shuffled some papers on the desk.
‘How is Carly? Do you know?’
‘About the same, so I understand.’
‘We’d like to see Mrs Smith, and Carly, if that’s at all possible.’
‘Can I have your name, please?’
‘I’m Michael Byrne. From Malvern. This is Mrs Byrne…’ As he spoke, Michael turned, took hold of Maureen’s arm and brought her forward. ‘And my children,’ he added, indicating the trio alongside.
The nurse peered at them all over her spectacles, and then she looked down at one of the pieces of paper on the desk, as if she were checking something out.
After a few more minutes without any kind of response, Michael, growing impatient, said, ‘Can we go and find Mrs Smith?’
‘You don’t have to find her,’ the nurse replied. ‘She’s in the second waiting room, down that corridor.’ She spoke somewhat grudgingly and looked ill at ease.
Katie at once noticed this and stepped forward, saying as she did, ‘Hi, Mrs Appleby! Don’t you remember me? Katie Byrne.
