The Triumph of Katie Byrne. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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The Triumph of Katie Byrne - Barbara Taylor Bradford


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voice it was almost a whisper, ‘Do you think Carly’s going to die, Momma?’

      Maureen turned to look at Katie, and then she put an arm around her daughter’s shoulder and brought her closer.

      ‘I hope not, mavourneen. But we must be honest with ourselves, accept the seriousness of her injuries, not push them under the rug because they frighten us. ‘Tis important we face them. Head injuries of this nature can be fatal. On the other hand, they may be superficial, not as serious as we’ve been led to believe. The best thing is to be positive, and believe that Carly is going to get better. We’re also going to pray that she’s as good as new, not impaired in any way.’

      Katie sat bolt-upright. ‘Mom, I hadn’t thought about that! Oh God, brain damage. Carly could end up…a vegetable.’ An involuntary shiver shot through the seventeen-year-old girl, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, suddenly more than ever afraid for her dearest friend.

      Maureen took hold of Katie’s hand, and said, ‘Try not to worry, Katie, darlin’. And don’t forget what I’ve forever drummed into you…there’s nothing worse than anticipatory despair, ‘tis debilitating, for one thing, and a waste of precious time for another. So let’s not start anticipating anything. Let’s hold positive thoughts, and hope that Carly’s going to be her old self in no time at all. And we must be there for her as much as we can.’

      ‘Yes, Mom, we must. We’ll all rally round for Carly,’ Katie swiftly asserted, her natural courage coming to the fore.

      ‘She could end up in a coma like that woman Sunny von Bulow,’ Finian said, leaning forward around Katie, so he could look at his mother through his thick glasses. ‘And she’s never going to come out of it.’

      ‘Be quiet!’ Maureen hissed, waving her finger reprovingly at her youngest child. She never knew what he was going to come out with.

      

      ‘There are a few press people over by the door,’ Michael said to them as he drove up to New Milford Hospital and parked the jeep at the kerb. ‘But they don’t know who we are, or our involvement, so we’ll just walk in quietly. Don’t look at them, especially you, Fin. And all of you, stick close to me.’

      ‘We will, Dad,’ Finian promised, sounding excited.

      ‘Come on then, let’s go!’ Maureen said. Quickly taking charge, she opened the door, got out, then waited for Fin and Katie to alight from the jeep. She immediately took hold of Fin’s hand, even though he wasn’t too happy about this, considering it babyish. He struggled; she held him.

      The Byrne family, huddled together, went through the front door of the hospital in a tight-knit little group. Once inside, Michael walked over to the desk where a nurse was on duty; the others trailed along, stood waiting patiently behind him.

      ‘Good evening,’ Michael said.

      The nurse glanced up at him, half smiled, nodded.

      ‘We’re friends of Mrs Smith,’ he explained. ‘Mrs Janet Smith. She’s here because of her daughter, Carly, who’s in intensive care.’

      ‘Yes,’ the nurse replied, and shuffled some papers on the desk.

      ‘How is Carly? Do you know?’

      ‘About the same, so I understand.’

      ‘We’d like to see Mrs Smith, and Carly, if that’s at all possible.’

      ‘Can I have your name, please?’

      ‘I’m Michael Byrne. From Malvern. This is Mrs Byrne…’ As he spoke, Michael turned, took hold of Maureen’s arm and brought her forward. ‘And my children,’ he added, indicating the trio alongside.

      The nurse peered at them all over her spectacles, and then she looked down at one of the pieces of paper on the desk, as if she were checking something out.

      After a few more minutes without any kind of response, Michael, growing impatient, said, ‘Can we go and find Mrs Smith?’

      ‘You don’t have to find her,’ the nurse replied. ‘She’s in the second waiting room, down that corridor.’ She spoke somewhat grudgingly and looked ill at ease.

      Katie at once noticed this and stepped forward, saying as she did, ‘Hi, Mrs Appleby! Don’t you remember me? Katie Byrne. I go to school with Florence.’

      The nurse studied Katie for a moment, and when recognition finally dawned she knew exactly who Katie was, and exclaimed, ‘You’re that good little actress I’ve seen in the school plays and concerts! The friend of Carly and Denise.’ Nurse Appleby leaned over the desk, and dropping her voice, added, ‘Terrible thing about the murder, wasn’t it?’

      Katie drew back, turning cold inside, and said nothing.

      Michael took hold of Katie’s arm and, regarding the nurse, he smiled at her with great cordiality, and said in his most charming voice, ‘Thanks very much, Nurse Appleby. We’ll go and see Mrs Smith.’

      They found their way to the second waiting room, halfway down the very long corridor.

      Katie hurried forward, her eyes on Janet Smith.

      She was sitting alone on a small two-seater sofa, looking worried and forlorn. Her short, platinum-blonde hair was all awry, as if she’d been running her hands through it endlessly. Her face was as white as a bleached sheet, and there were dark violet smudges under her pale grey eyes, which were bloodshot from crying and filled with terror. As always, she wore black wool slacks and a matching black sweater; her beige raincoat was thrown over the arm of the sofa, and she tightly grasped the handbag resting in her lap.

      She looked up as Katie came to a standstill in front of her, and blinked rapidly, frowning, as if she didn’t know who Katie was for a moment. Then she got a grip on herself, and said, in a hoarse whisper, ‘Oh Katie, there you are…’

      ‘I’m sorry we’re so late in coming, Mrs Smith,’ Katie apologized, and went on to explain swiftly, ‘Niall and I had to help the police. They kept us for ages. We had to give statements, and then Dad came to get us and we went home together to get Mom and Fin.’

      ‘We came as soon as we could, Janet.’ Maureen spoke softly, and seated herself next to Janet, who looked at her through the corner of her eye, then nodded dourly.

      ‘How’s Carly doing?’ Katie asked, crouching down next to Mrs Smith’s knees, her face full of genuine concern, her blue eyes spilling sympathy.

      ‘Thankfully, her skull has stopped bleeding, and although she’s still unconscious, the neurologist says he thinks she’ll regain consciousness in the next few days.’

      Katie let out a huge sigh of relief, and she smiled for the first time in hours. ‘Oh, this is good news, we’ve all been so worried about Carly. Do you think I can see her, Mrs Smith?’ She gazed at her friend’s mother expectantly.

      Janet stared back, shaking her head, and made a moue with her thin mouth. ‘No, they won’t let you, I haven’t seen much of her myself. She’s hooked up to a lot of tubes and machines, and there are two policemen guarding her door.’ Sudden tears sprang into her pale eyes, and she sucked in her breath, then gasped, ‘It’s terrible when you think of it…that she might be in danger still. My poor Carly, my poor little girl.’

      Touched by Janet’s plight, and worried about her, Maureen put a comforting arm around her. ‘Look, she’s going to be all right. It’s just a precaution, the police being there.’

      Katie rested her hand on Mrs Smith’s knee. ‘Carly saw him. So she can identify him, and that’s why the police have posted guards. In case he comes to the hospital. But he won’t come, and you mustn’t worry, because the police are going to catch him.’

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