The Magpies A Psychological Thriller - By Mark Edwards Page 0,54

was no guarantee that Paul would stay awake. But if he does, they’ll have to keep him in for a while for observation. His body’s undergone a severe trauma. His muscles have been unused for so quite a while, so he’s going to be ever so weak. He’ll have to have a lot of physio. It won’t be easy. Plus they have to check his brain, make sure there isn’t any lasting damage. Even assuming he’s all right, he’ll probably be disorientated and confused. We can’t expect him to be his normal self – not straight away, anyway.’

‘He’s back,’ said Paul’s mum. ‘For now, that’s all that matters.’

‘I’m going to ask him to marry me,’ said Heather.

All heads swivelled towards her.

‘We could make it a double wedding,’ said Jamie. Attention turned to him. ‘Kirsty and I decided last night that we’re going to get married. And we’ve got some other news.’

Kirsty shot him a look. Shit. He’d forgotten, in his excitement, that he was supposed to wait till she was twelve weeks. Before he could think of some other news to share – we’re buying a new sofa, for example – Kirsty said, ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘Oh Kirsty!’ Heather leaned across the table and kissed her. ‘That’s excellent news.’

‘Congratulations,’ said Paul’s dad.

‘It’s been a somewhat overwhelming twenty-four hours,’ said Jamie.

Kirsty stood up. ‘I need to go to the loo.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ said Heather.

‘I wouldn’t if I were you.’

Jamie said, ‘Have you still got a bad stomach?’

‘Yes.’ To prove it, she hurried off.

‘We had an Indian last night,’ Jamie explained to the others, ‘and we were both sick this morning.’

‘Oh.’ Nobody was very interested. Paul had woken up. That was all that mattered. The news about Kirsty’s pregnancy was secondary right now. They were itching to get back to Paul’s room. They needed to know how he was.

Kirsty came back looking pale, and a few minutes later a nurse appeared. ‘Would you like to come back now?’ she said.

‘How is he?’ asked Paul’s mum.

The nurse smiled. ‘Why don’t you come and see for yourself?’

They filed back into the room. Doctor Meer was standing beside the bed, looking pleased, hands tucked into the pockets of his white coat. Paul was propped up with a pillow behind his back. He looked like the living dead, his eyes open but empty of feeling. Jamie wanted him to smile – wished his face would light up with that boyish grin – but he just looked at them, impassive. Heather, Kirsty and Paul’s parents each went up to him and hugged him. He didn’t reciprocate; his arms hung loosely by his side, his hands concealed beneath the sheets. When Heather pulled away Paul looked at her as if she was a stranger.

Amnesia, Jamie thought. He stepped forward, a cautious smile on his face. ‘Alright, mate?’ he said.

Paul nodded, still expressionless.

‘You do remember who we all are, don’t you?’

The others exchanged worried glances.

Paul looked at them all. After a long pause, during which Jamie noticed how silent it was in here without the constant bip-bip-bip of the heart monitor, he said, ‘Of course I remember. Mum. Dad. Jamie. Kirsty. And Heather.’ He pointed at the doctor. ‘I don’t think I’ve been introduced to this guy though.’

Doctor Meer stepped forward and told Paul his name.

‘And you’ve been looking after me?’

‘Not just Doctor Meer,’ said Paul’s mum. ‘All the nurses here, and your dad and me, and Heather and Kirsty and Jamie. We’ve all sat with you, Paul, waiting for you to wake up.’ Tears bubbled to the surface again, and she produced a damp tissue and blew her nose.

‘So I suppose I owe you all my thanks.’

‘You don’t owe us anything, son,’ said Paul’s dad.

‘We’re just so pleased to have you back,’ said Heather.

Paul brought his hands out from beneath the sheet and studied them. His voice was hoarse. ‘I feel so weak. All my muscles – I feel like a newborn kitten. It feels horrible.’

‘We’re going to have to build you up again, Paul,’ said Doctor Meer. ‘We have a program of physical therapy already planned out for you. It’s going to be hard work – but soon you’ll be back to peak fitness.’

Paul rubbed his eyes. ‘God, I had such dreams.’ He looked up, cast his gaze over each of them in turn, finally settling on Jamie.

‘I want to talk to Jamie,’ he said.

‘No, you need to rest,’ said the doctor. ‘Jamie can come back later.’ He turned to the group. ‘Paul’s not ready to talk to