Twinned (13 page)

"I said get back, Sir!" shouts the nearest of two paramedics.

"Do you know this girl?" shouts someone else.

"Beth! Beth!"
I am screaming her name.

Marti races up behind me, grabs me and tells the male paramedic to take his hands off me. I didn't know his hands were on me.

And there she is. Unconscious again! What is it with this girl? I wonder.

Obviously she's hurt. I recall my vision of nothingness an hour or so before and I am scared for her. God please let her be OK and I won't leave her like that again.

"Just tell me she's gonna be OK!" I plead. "Is she alright?"

"Come away Sir," says a police woman. "She is alive but I need you to help me. Do you know her?"

"Well..." This could be difficult. Then I think (somehow) very quickly indeed. "She's a journalist." I remember that much at least. "I recognised her... her car."

Marti looks confused; he releases me from his grip and rubs his stern forehead. He's probably thinking she's a fan that I've been fooling around with.

"She's a friend," I say. "Her name is Beth. Beth Britten."

Then I realise that was her maiden name. "Well she was Beth Britten before she got married," I add. "I don't know now, I can't remember her husband's surname. I don't know if I ever knew it."

"A journalist -!" Marti seethes. "Fan-fucking-tastic. A journalist..." He steps away, waving his arms about theatrically and kicking a fragment of brick, hard across the street.

"Do you mind!" says the police woman to Marti.

"Come with me, Sir," she says to me. She leads me towards the police car. "Did you see the accident?" I shake my head. Out of the corner of my eye I am aware of a fire engine turning up, it's slowly squeezing past our coach.

"Do you know anyone who we can contact?" she adds.

"I don't know," I say. Then I remember. "She works for a newspaper supplement. That's all I know." She writes this down and then uses her radio to call in the information.

Then Marti is next to me, holding up a small towel of all things and I see why the police woman led me over to her car. There, on the corner of the street, is a man with a microphone. He was facing a local news channel camera. Now it's trained on me.

Safely hidden from the camera behind the towel – the kind they put on the bar to catch the drips - and sat in the police car feeling like a fool, I tell Marti I will be riding with Beth in the ambulance. He freaks. I remind him who pays his wages. He reminds me who pays mine. I ignore him and ask him to phone Georgia and to tell her that we were witnesses to the crash and that I am going with the police purely as a witness, so she's not to worry. The last thing I want is the time for someone to put doubt in her mind as to why I am there.

The police woman checks with the paramedics that it's OK for me to go with Beth, who has been cut out of the car and is on a stretcher being loaded into the back. They agree. It's obvious they know who I am and figure it will be a cool story to tell their buddies.

"You are being a dick," says Marti. "How the fuck am I gonna spin this?" He mutters angrily.

"You'll figure it out, Marti." I say. "I have some money and my phone, I'll call you later and I'll meet you at the hotel."

“She's all alone, Marti," I add.

He strides off. The rest of the band is huddled by the coach door, looking at me like I am mental. Drivers are standing by their car doors, squinting at me in the sun, some with camera phones trained on the spectacle. Road crash meets rock stars.

"We're ready Sir," says the paramedic. I get inside the ambulance. Beth is strapped down and is lying under a white cellular blanket, like one of Harry's baby blankets only bigger. She has a mask over her mouth and nose. Her eyes are closed. She looks like she's been in a fight. A machine is beeping. The engine starts, it rattles the medical equipment noisily.

"You can hold her hand if you like?" says the lady paramedic.

I give her a look that mirrors hers - furtive - as if seeking a nod that this is our secret.

"Go on, Sir. It will help her."

Beth's hand is very, very cold. My head hurts. The doors slam behind me. I see our hands together. I see her wedding ring. I see my wedding ring. I wonder where this will lead.

What am I doing?

It takes only a few minutes to arrive at the hospital.

Beth gets taken away. The nurses accommodate my request to wait alone in a side room. I don't want to cause a fuss I explain but it's not ideal to be sat in a public area right now. One nurse can't stop giggling when she sees me and runs off; only to return with an autograph book. Where did she get that from? I wonder, as I duly sign. Her badge says 'Alison'. A man who I assume is her supervisor tells her off and I am left alone again.

The room is rather sterile with plastic-padded, high backed chairs that wouldn't look out of place in an old folks' home. There are posters about all sorts of medical conditions, from osteoporosis to cancer. It smells in here. Everything looks old. There is a blood-stained tissue on the floor. I shudder and pick up a magazine, wondering wryly what I'll catch and who the hell Jordan and Peter are.

It’s a tense wait. About an hour later, there is a knock on the door. A woman enters the room, carrying a large bag. She's in her fifties, small with bobbed brown hair. I can tell from her eyes that she has been crying.

"Do you mind if I wait in here?” She says, putting the bag down.

"Not at all, ma’am."

I see there is a slight shake to her hand as she sighs heavily. "I’m waiting to see my daughter. I have her things."

"Sit down, please," I say, getting up and helping her to a chair. She looks like she is in a real state. For a fleeting moment I think of my mom.

"I'm Annie," she says. She looks me over, "I understand you are a... musician?”

I nod, embarrassed, wondering how she knows. "My name's Joel.”

"The nurse seemed quite excited about you being here, I’m sorry I don’t recognise you, I’m not really into modern music. Not like my daughter.”

"I, err, we witnessed a road crash," I explain, "With my band. Just came along to check the driver was OK.”

"My Beth had a road crash – was she who you saw?"

I gulp. “I think her name was Beth, yes.”

"Well it’s nice that you came to check on her, Joel." She emphasises my name. "They say she is OK, she has mild concussion and some bruising. But she is remarkably unscathed otherwise, no signs of internal bleeding." She pauses. "It has been quite a shock..."

She stops. Sighs. Looks at me.

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with her husband but his phone just goes to answer machine. I let myself into her house on the way here; I knew she would need some things. It’s best if she stays with me if Richard’s away, he’s often away…”

I can't believe my life will ever get any stranger. I am very uncomfortable being around this woman. I have no idea what to say or not say and I am worried that she will see right through any lie I try to pull on her.

I say I need to make a phone call and step outside.

I call Marti. "I'm gonna be a bit late back, Mart."

"Listen, Joey-boy. I am covering for you like crazy, mate - but you have to start talking to me! What's going on with this girl?"

"It doesn't matter now Marti, it's too complicated to explain right now. Have you spoken to Georgia? What did she say?"

"Well, mate.
She
called
me
actually. There's been a complication..."

"What? Is Harry OK? Is she OK?"

"She woke up with a call from her friend Sarah, who’d heard from her friend in the UK that you'd been in an accident, God knows how. She was worried when she couldn't reach you because your cell is off..."

"And what did she say?"

"She was relieved you were OK but she'd put on the news and seen that there's a bizarre situation happening in the skies. They are shutting European airspace, volcanic ash from Iceland or some mental shit like that.” I hear him taking a long drag on his cigarette. “It
might
not affect us travelling back West though."

"What exactly are you telling me Marti?"

"She's fine, you’re fine and everything’s fine as far as she is concerned. But you need to get your ass back to the band, or it soon won’t be.”

"This is all too much for my head right now, Marti. What I need to tell
you
now is that I will be at Abbey Road as planned tomorrow but I might not be back to the hotel tonight. There are some things I need to sort out here first. My friend, she's in trouble."

"I didn't think you would put yourself in jeopardy like this, you of all of them, Joel. I hope she's worth it."

"I haven't done anything wrong, Marti. I'll speak to you later. Bye." I hand up before he can answer me.

I go back to the waiting room in time to see a doctor leaving, he's shaking Annie's hand and she's smiling with tears in her eyes.

"Is everything OK? Is she alright?"

"She's awake; I’m allowed to see her now. There’s no need to stay, you must be very busy. I must confess I'm not entirely sure if she’ll know who you are – I don’t mean to offend you – but I think it’s best if it’s just family.”

“Sure, I should be going.” There's a shake to my voice that I'm not used to hearing.

I go to the nurses’ station. It’s the strange one, Alison. She looks at me like I’m Father Christmas and she is a five year old. It’s freaky.

“Alison, is it? Can you do me a huge favour?”

“Anything,” she almost whispers.

“Could you come get me when Beth’s mum leaves?” I ask. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Of course!”

I go back to the waiting room. About half an hour later, Alison comes to get me.

As she opens the door to Beth's room, I feel stupid for not having brought flowers or something. Beth is lying in the hospital bed. Upon hearing the door, she opens her eyes. I feel a bolt strike through me, whether it is fear or excitement or terror, I'm not sure.

"Hey," I say.

"Hi," she says, like a question. Her eyes tell me more than that... I hear her in my head, I feel her thoughts caressing mine with questions
– Why are you here? What’s going on?

“How are you?” I ask.

“OK thanks,” she says, trying to sit up a little, her hand smoothing her hair and straightening her hospital nightgown.

Being this near her is like warm water rushing into my brain, soothing my synapses.

A little voice pipes up from across the room. It’s Alison; I’d forgotten she was still there. "I'll just give you two a... a minute. Would anyone like a cup of tea?"

"No thanks," I say for both of us. The nurse reluctantly leaves the room.

Instinctively, I go to Beth. My leather jacket squeaks as I awkwardly hug her, trying not to knock the equipment she's hooked up to. "This isn't working," I say, reclaiming my arms and removing my jacket so I'm just in my t-shirt. It's easier to hug her this way. She leans in to my chest and we both breathe each other in. Everything is still in my mind, in her mind.