The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1181 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Simon insisted we continue home despite my pleading to return to the hospital. I dashed in, spoke quickly to the other children, ran up to the shower, dried and dressed in clean togs and grabbing some biscuits, took the keys to the Mondeo before Simon noticed what I was doing. I knew he’d be cross–he’d run out to take-away to save me cooking. He was still dishing up when I escaped.

Once I’d parked I ate a couple of the digestive biscuits I’d brought with me, and then walked to the hospital to check on Julie. I had to plead with the ward sister to allow me to go and see her, as official visiting was over. The gigantic bodyguard was standing impassively at her door, but recognised me and let me enter. Julie was sleeping–at least I hoped that what’s she was doing.

I rubbed her hand and held my breath–thankfully her eyes opened and she looked at me and smiled. “Hi,” she said and smiled again.

“Hi, yourself,” I replied, “How d’you feel?”

“I’m okay, a bit sleepy but otherwise okay. Why are you back here–I thought I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow?”

“I got a bit anxious. If Alfie is still in the hospital, they might try something on him.”

“He’s in Southampton, someone fractured his skull apparently. He’s huge so they must have been even bigger.”

“Probably,” I blushed, thinking, maybe I do need to lose some weight?

“It wasn’t the bloke on the door, was it–he’s like enormous.”

“Could have been, he is pretty big–but then, it’s not size that’s important...”

“I know, it’s what you do with it,” she interrupted.

“Actually, not quite–it’s more a question of technique plus use of available weaponry.”

“Oh yeah, you carry around a spare club do you?” she seemed rather sceptical.

“No, but that drip stand for instance, would make a formidable weapon.”

“Sure and he waits while you empty it.”

“It was empty already.” I blushed.

“Crikey, Mummy, it was you who hit him?”

I nodded–“He had a gun. I had no choice. He was intending to kill us–I had to do something.”

“Wow, why are we paying the guy on the door? You’re far more dangerous than any of them.”

“Very funny.” I went to ruffle her hair and my phone bleeped. It was Simon texting me.

‘Wot RU playin’ at? Nusflsh-patient’s been killed in S’oton hosp. Was it U no hu? Si x’

“Oh dear,” I said aloud.

“What’s the matter, Mummy?”

“According to Simon someone has been killed in Southampton Hospital.”

“Did he say who?”

“No, he’s guessing, but you said he’d been moved.”

“Yeah, he had a head injury–that’s where they do brain surgery an’ stuff.”

“Yes, I know that. I wonder what happened, was it an accident or was he murdered?” I felt my worries were now becoming validated by this most recent event, although that was speculating on unknowns–I didn’t know for sure it was Bird. It could be anyone.

“So what happens when you go home?”

“Who said I’m going anywhere?” I riposted whilst squeezing her hand.

“Hmmmm, I feel really safe when you or Daddy are about,” she said snuggling down into the bed–“I feel soooo tired,” she yawned and closed her eyes.

I sat, feeling a lovely warm sensation, thinking that I was allowing her to feel safe. Suddenly, I felt a sudden jolt of energy flow through me into her hand, which went limp. Shocked, I stood up and couldn’t see her breathing. I screamed for help and pulling her flat, began chest compressions–all the while the energy was flooding through my hands and into her.

The bodyguard on the door had vanished by the time a team of doctors and nurses arrived–the crash team. They made me wait outside while they tried to start her heart. I was sure she’d been given something, probably by the person who was supposed to be protecting her.

More staff arrived, including Ken Nicholls, “What are you doing here?” he asked me.

“I was worried about her, she seemed to go off to sleep and then stopped breathing.”

“D’you think she was poisoned?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think she could have been.”

“Get those drips out and preserve them, I want them checked by pathology in case of foreign agents.” He came back out to me, “Good job you came back.”

“Simon has just texted to say someone was killed at Southampton hospital.”

“Oh, not our not-so little friend was it? We sent him to the neuro unit.”

“I don’t know. How’s she doing?”

“We’ve got a very good crash team here, if anyone can save her, they will.”

“Thanks, I’ll just sit and see if I can help her recover.”

“Okay, I’ll get them to find you a cuppa as soon as I can.”

I nodded and sat down in the corridor, trying to connect with Julie. It wasn’t working. I sensed her wandering in unknown places, she was lost and distressed. She seemed oblivious to my light or my voice–in the distance I could hear the medics talking, the lead doctor was calling for so many mils of some drug or another. I heard the defibrillator charging–it whines, then the medic called–shocking, stand clear. I heard the phutt as it did so and the machine recharging. Tears were rolling down my face–was this how it was to end for her, murdered at age sixteen?

I’d lost count of how many times I’d pulled her through from the brink, and now some bastard kills her, betrays his trust and administers a lethal dose of something. I wanted him dead. I didn’t care who did it–if she dies, so does he. I felt the energy shut down in me, obviously influenced by my negative thoughts.

I sent Simon a text telling him the bodyguard probably has killed our foster daughter. He sent one back–I’m on my way.

I shut out the physical world and went deep inside myself–it felt dark, not helped by my recent anger and desire for retribution. I tried to distance myself from those thoughts, and think about Julie, positively about her. I tried to recall her laugh and her smile, things she did which showed her love for us and ours for her. I felt the atmosphere lightening. I kept sending her positive energy, telling her I loved her and for her not to give up on me, but to come back to me to follow my light and my voice.

I kept doing this over and over–sending her love, telling her we all loved her and not to leave us but to come back to us. I poured energy into my mind’s eye image of her wandering, but a light seeking her and finding her, then winding itself around her and drawing her back to me and to her body.

I visualised the light circulating round her chest and her heart starting–I could see it pumping, pushing the light round her body through her blood–it spreading, healing and oxygenating her body. I could see her sweat and hear her breathe again.

The leading medic came out of the room, “Mrs Cameron, I’m so sorry.”

“No,” I screamed, “You must keep trying–I won’t let her die.”

“Calm down, there’s nothing anyone can do–sorry.”

“You’re wrong, I rushed past him and as they were pulling down the drips and unplugging the machines, I ran up to her and slapped her face and thumped her chest with my other hand. “Come back, I told you, dammit, come back, we need you.” My tears fell on her face and something wonderful happened, she coughed and began breathing again.

“What the fuck?” exclaimed the young doctor, “Dr Hendry, get back here, quick,” he shouted and the departing medical team stopped and turned round.

I was asked to leave again while they examined her.

“What happened?” asked Dr Hendry.

“Search me, she slapped her, gave her a precordial thump and the patient coughed.”

“But that’s impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” I said loudly outside, “you just have to believe it.”