The following is a continuance of a story I posted a little while ago. It might stand up on its own but will make much more sense if you read the first two parts, I hope you like it...Best wishes CC.
One Saturday evening Kate and I were in the cinema. The film was dreadful, not what we were expecting. Kate was restless and playful; reaching across for popcorn her fingers would 'accidently' brush against my breast. Her hand resting on my knee would begin to creep under my skirt and every now and again she would lean over and whisper something very naughty and suggestive in my ear. I was 39 years old and fending off the attentions of a very lovely woman, the thought made me giggle and Kate knew that I was putty in hers hands. We finished the film; I can't even remember what it was about and made our way down the street to pick up a Thai take-out. Driving home, Kate continued to tease and every time we stopped at the lights she would tilt towards me and kiss me. We reached home and I started to open the meal up while Kate opened a bottle of wine and poured a couple of glasses. As she handed me one, I saw the answer phone light blinking. I realised I had forgotten to switch on my phone after the movie. With Kate hugging me from behind and wriggling her hand under my t-shirt, I pressed play.
The message was calm, dreadful and to the point. We both froze and I swung round to look at her. She took my glass and set it down,
'We'll go; right now...I'll drive'
Picking up bags and purses we fled the house, my stomach churning over in fright. The message had explained an accident, a serious accident involving Tom, Maggie and the kids. It said nothing more, just 'accident' and the name of the hospital.
Kate drove quickly but carefully while I stared out of the window chewing on a thumb nail. She grasped my hand,
'Don't panic yet love, let's get the full picture.'
She was kind and strong but I could hear the worry in her voice.
Of course, the hospital was the kind of chaos you would normally find in an emergency department on a Saturday night. Drunken aggressive football fans and a gaggle of students mixed in the waiting room giving the place a fuggy belligerent atmosphere. The receptionist was sympathetic and thorough and we found ourselves in the much more peaceful family room. I quickly discovered I found the bedlam outside almost preferable to the nerve wracking quiet. We waited for about 45 very long minutes before the door opened and a tired looking man in scrubs opened the door and came in. He shook both our hands and established our identities before asking us to sit. He began with good news.
'We received 5 patients from a road traffic accident at 7pm. Three children were admitted, they are all stable and well. The boy, Harry, has a double fracture of his tibia and will require surgery. The two girls will be kept in for observation, but save for mild concussion and bruising they appear to be well.'
Both Kate and I released breath simultaneously.
He continued, his expression grave.
'Mrs Hope has received very serious injuries and has had surgery to stop internal bleeding. I must warn you however that her injuries are severe; she's in intensive care. We will do all we can.'
'Tom?'
His eyes caught mine and I knew his news would be awful before he opened his mouth.
'Miss Hope, I'm very sorry to have to tell you that Mr Hope was declared dead on arrival. His injuries were very severe; I doubt very much that he would have been conscious at all since the accident.'
My world stopped still. I could hear the blood thumping in my ears but was aware of little else. My adorable baby brother was dead and Maggie was critical. I struggled to focus and accept the information. I was aware of Kate and the doctor speaking but I couldn't hear what they said. I can remember fragments of the rest of the night; watching the children sleep in a kids ward, seeing Maggie lying so very still, surrounded by machines while tubes pumped life into her. Numbly nodding while I identified Tom and watching as my father and step mother received the most awful news a parent can be told. Kate took me home at the end of my worst evening, made me drink tea and held me close on the sofa. I was conscious of her grief and of her tears but my own refused to arrive.
The next few days were filled with hope. Emma and Connie were released and came home. Maggie's parents arrived, both distraught but hopeful and the house was filled while we took turns to visit Harry who was doing well and Maggie, who wasn't.
Maggie died three days later. There were no 'soap opera' endings. I was in the room with her mum, Cathy, when the machines sounded a warning and a team of medics rushed in. I waited helplessly outside until they came out and told us the news and I retreated to leave Cathy to her grief. My whole world seemed to be in freefall and it was the constant love and care Kate gave that kept me sane.
We all endured the double funeral. We all took turns being with and explaining to the kids. It was the most heart breaking of times. And every night I would find myself in Kate's strong warm arms and feel like she made just a little of the hurt disappear.
Inevitably, unavoidably, Tom and Maggie's Will was read and our thoughts moved on to the kids and their future. Typically, Tom had prepared well and all his affairs were very much in order. The house was safe and money was never going to be an issue. The big question, of course, was the guardianship of the children and Tom and Maggie's will had expressly asked that I was to be the primary carer for the kids. Late into the evening I sat with Cathy and Bill, Maggie's parents, as well as my own while we discussed our options. Bill had MS, and while still fit and relatively healthy they were really in no position to look after 3 lively children and I guessed the same to be said of my father and stepmother. While positively terrified of the prospect, I knew that I owed it to my brother and Maggie to look after their kids in the best way I could. Secretly, I was terrified of Kate's reaction to the news and had been avoiding the subject with her. I got up and walked to the kitchen to make us all tea. The door closed behind me but not before I heard my stepmothers' voice, low and urgent.
'You can't possibly be serious?' she hissed
I quietly opened the door a touch and listened from the safety of the kitchen
'You can't possibly be thinking of leaving our grandchildren to be brought up by...by a pair of...well, lesbians!'
