'What?'
She must have dozed off. She didn't think she'd closed
her eyes all night, but Sam was leaning over her, shaking her shoulder where she sat in the green leather chair next to Ruby's bed.
There were purple shadows under Sam's red-rimmed eyes, black stubble along his jaw and a thin line of white spittle around his lips. He had refused to sit at all. 'Darl, you're not helping your daughter by standing for the whole night,' the nurse had told him, but Sam seemed psychopathically determined to stand, as if Ruby's life depended on it, as if he were guarding her from harm, and eventually the nurse gave up, although every now and then she shot Sam a look as if she were just itching to stick a needle in his arm and knock him out.
The nurse's name was Kylie. She was a New Zealander and she spoke slowly and simply to them, saying everything twice, as if English were their second language. Probably all parents were dull-witted with shock. Kylie explained that in intensive care every patient got their own nurse: 'I've only got one job tonight and that's Ruby.' She told them there was a room available on the same floor where they could sleep, and she gave them little toiletry bags with toothbrushes and combs, of the style you might receive on an overnight premium economy flight. She advised them to try to get some sleep because Ruby was sedated and she wasn't going to know if they were there or not, but they'd already let Ruby down once, they weren't leaving her again.
Sam spent the night watching Ruby and the screens monitoring Ruby's heart rhythm, her temperature, her breathing rate and her oxygen levels, as if he knew what they meant, and indeed he had asked Kylie to explain, so maybe he really did understand. Clementine hadn't listened to the explanations. She spent the night with her eyes travelling back and forth between Ruby and Kylie's face. She felt that Kylie's face would tell her if there was anything to be concerned about, although she was wrong, because during the night Ruby's oxygen levels dropped, and Kylie's face remained exactly the same, while the doctor on duty was called and Sam moved quietly to the corner of the room with a clenched fist pressed hard against his cheek, as if he were poised to knock himself out. Ruby's oxygen levels went back up to an acceptable level again, but the adrenaline buzzed through Clementine for the next few hours. It was a reminder that they could not, should not relax, even for a moment.
'The doctor is here,' said Sam now as Clementine rubbed her eyes and swallowed, her mouth dry and sour. 'They're going to extubate, wake her up.'
'Good morning!' said a pale-haired, pale-skinned doctor. 'Let's see if we can wake up this little sleeping beauty, shall we?'
It was fast. The tubes came out. The mask was removed.
After twenty minutes, Ruby frowned heavily. Her eyelids twitched.
'Ruby?' said Sam, as if he were begging for his life.
Ruby's eyes finally fluttered opened. She stared at the cannula in her arm with an expression of pure disgust. Thankfully, her thumb-sucking hand was free, and she jammed her thumb in her mouth. She looked up, found her parents, and looked angrier still.
'Whisk,' she demanded hoarsely.
The relief Clementine experienced as she rushed to deliver Whisk was exquisite, glorious; like the cessation of an agonising pain, like a gasp of air when you'd been forced to hold your breath.
She looked for Sam with the vague expectation that something would now happen between them, something important and climactic. They would grab hands, for example, their fingers would lock together in mutual joy and they would smile down at Ruby while tears rained down their faces.
But it didn't happen. They looked at each other and yes, they did smile, and yes, their eyes were full of tears, but something wasn't quite right. She didn't know who looked away first, she didn't know if it was her coldness or his coldness, if she was blaming him or he was blaming her, but then Ruby began to cry, distressed by her sore throat from the tube, and the doctor started talking and it was all too late. It was another moment they'd never get back to do right.
chapter sixty-three
'Dinner is ready!' called Sam, and he sounded perfectly normal, not at all like the stranger who, less than one hour ago, had discussed separating. I think I'm done with us. Now he sounded just like Daddy, like Sam, like himself.
The smell of Sam's signature dish, shepherd's pie, filled the house. Clementine loved his shepherd's pie but the girls hated it, which was annoying because it seemed like the sort of nutritious, kid-friendly food they should like, so every week they kept deluding themselves and trying again.
'When will it ever stop raining?' asked Holly as she turned off her iPad with all the technological insouciance of a millennium kid. 'It is actually driving me crazy.'
'Me too,' said Clementine. 'Ruby! Come on! Dinnertime.'
Ruby looked up from where she was sitting in the middle of a circle of dolls and soft toys. She had placed them around her in imitation of 'story circle' at day care, and had been pretending to read them a Curious George book, holding it up in the same way that her teacher obviously did, and carefully licking her finger each time she turned the page.
'It's nap time!' said Ruby cheerfully, and knocked the toys into sleeping positions with a casual backhand. Hopefully she hadn't learned that at day care too.
'What's for dinner?' Holly ran to the table and sat herself up. She grabbed her knife and fork with ominous enthusiasm. 'Pasta? It's pasta, right?'
'It's shepherd's pie,' said Sam as Clementine strapped Ruby into the 'big girl' booster seat she now used instead of a high chair.
'What?' Holly slumped as if to news of a great injustice. 'Shepherd's pie? Again? We had it last night.'
'You did not have it last night,' said Sam evenly, putting the plate in front of her. 'You had pasta with Grandma last night while Mummy and Daddy went out to dinner.'
'There's some still in the fridge!' said Holly excitedly. 'I remember! We didn't eat it all! And Grandma said that -'
'There's none left in the fridge,' said Clementine. 'I ate it last night.'
'What?' cried Holly. Life was a series of travesties. 'But you went to a restaurant!'