As she hesitated on the third step down from the top, her foot slipped from under her and she felt herself falling, tumbling, until she was at the bottom. She knew she was hurt badly, she couldn’t move and soon she started to feel herself slipping away from the world and felt grateful for it because baby Jake was dead, she knew he was dead, he was calling to her, and now she was going to join him.

59

When Nula came back to full consciousness she found herself lying in a hospital bed, machines beeping around her. Charlie was sitting there at her bedside, his eyes dark with worry, and there in the doorway of the private room she could see Terry loitering.

Shit, I must look a mess, thought Nula, seeing Terry standing there gazing at her. And then there was another thought: I’m not dead. Jake’s dead and I’m not.

But she’d heard him.

She hadn’t been imagining that; it was Jake’s cry, she knew it was, and she’d heard it just before she’d slipped and fallen on the stairs.

Worse thoughts were crowding in now. She was floaty with some sort of painkiller, but still the thoughts wouldn’t keep away. The woman on the phone, denying all knowledge of Mrs Bushell and of the Mulville woman too. And then falling, slipping on something. On what?

‘You’re back,’ said Charlie, leaning forward, taking her hand. ‘Christ, you’ve been out of it for days.’

Nula tried to speak. Her voice emerged a dry croak. Charlie picked up a tumbler of water and, holding her head, helped her drink. She spluttered. Coughed. Then drank again.

‘I . . . I fell,’ she said finally.

‘You did. The au pair heard it. It was her who called the ambulance.’

Nula nodded. ‘Am I . . . ?’ she started.

‘Bumps and bruises, that’s all, the docs said. Nasty crack on the head, though. Concussion. They were worried about that, had to make sure you didn’t have a bleed on the brain or some damned thing. But here you are! You’re back with us.’

Nula carefully raised her hand and touched her head. Bandages there. Her arm felt heavy, so she let it fall back down onto the bed.

Charlie was standing up. ‘I’ll get the nurse . . .’ he said.

‘I stepped on something and I fell,’ said Nula.

‘That’s right, babes. You did.’

‘What did I step on?’

‘Ah shit, I know, what a bloody thing, eh?’ Charlie’s face darkened with anger. ‘Harlan left his fucking skateboard there. I’ve told him, you got to put your stuff away, boy. Accidents happen that way. Well, an accident did happen. You poor mare. But thank God, you’re all right.’