Scrap 97

SCRAP 97
It’s been a long night and Frank can barely keep his eyes open as he pulls the car up outside Scotty’s house. Dawn has been standing inside the front room window looking out for him since early morning. The police offered her lift to Guys Hospital but she said she would rather wait for Jim’s friend. She almost falls on Frank as he hauls himself from the driving seat. She babbles incoherently as he blinks himself awake and gathers that Scotty has been involved in some kind of accident. ‘Let me have a quick wash to wake up and I’ll take you to him,’ he says, following her into the house.
Dawn hovers outside the bathroom, her coat and shoes on, willing him to hurry up. Frank smells a bit fresher when he re-emerges, though he has had no time to shave or change his clothes. Dawn ushers him to the car and climbs into the passenger seat. They set off in a hurry and she explains that Scotty’s lorry load of whisky was hijacked the day before and he is unconscious in intensive care.
The journey takes less than an hour with Frank driving as fast as he can. They find the intensive care ward and Dawn explains that she is Mr Stewart’s wife. ‘Family only,’ says the nurse, leading the way to Scotty’s bed. ‘I’m his brother,’ lies Frank, determined to be at his pal’s bedside. Scotty has a police guard outside his door who takes a note of the visitors’ names before allowing them into the room. ‘He’s still unconscious,’ says the nurse in a quiet tone, ‘but he may be able to hear you. He has suffered a severe blow to the head and bleeding to the brain. The doctor will be here soon to answer any of your questions.’
They thank the nurse and she leaves the room. Dawn finds a small place on her husband’s face which is not obscured by the oxygen mask and bruising and kisses him gently before taking a seat and placing a hand over his. Frank is shocked to see his pal in such a state, wondering if this would have been his fate had he not done the Liverpool run instead. Guilt tells him it should be himself lying there, not Scotty. He takes a seat away from the bed and listens to the hiss of the oxygen as Scotty takes shallow breaths, his eyes tight shut, his body motionless.
Dawn leans close to Scotty’s ear and whispers, hoping that Frank will not hear. He pretends to be unaware as she imparts the news that the doctor told her yesterday that she is expecting twins. There is not a flicker of response and Dawn bursts into tears, sobbing into the corner of a pillowslip.
The door creaks open and a man in his fifties wearing a grubby white coat enters the room. ‘Mrs Stewart?’ he asks. Dawn nods, sniffs back the tears and looks up at the bespectacled man. ‘I’m afraid there isn’t much I can tell you at the moment,’ says Doctor Finch, ‘your husband has sustained concussion and has been unconscious since he was found at three o’clock this morning. He could have been like that for several hours, so the police tell us and quite honestly he is lucky to be alive.’
Dawn manages to pull herself together and asks if there will be any lasting damage but Doctor Finch says it is too early to tell. ‘He needs time to rest and let the swelling in his brain go down,’ he explains. ‘We should know more in a day or two. The police need to speak to him as soon as he is well enough and we will be keeping a close eye on him. I’ll be back to check on him in an hour or so but if you need me in the meantime just tell the nurse and she will send for me.’
They thank him for his time and settle down to wait. Frank falls asleep in the chair but Dawn sits resolutely at her husband’s side, searching for any sign that he knows of her presence.
The day is drawing to a close when Frank opens his eyes. Dawn is shaking his arm to waken him. ‘I have to go to the loo,’ she whispers, ‘keep an eye on him for me.’ Frank rubs his arms to regain the circulation and says of course he will. ‘Any change?’ he asks, but there has been nothing. The nurse and the doctor have been in several times but Scotty is still dead to the world.
As soon as Dawn is out the room Scotty opens his eyes. ‘Psst,’ he whispers, ‘Frank, get over here.’ Frank almost jumps out of his skin, moves to the side of the bed and sits down. ‘I’ve been waiting hours for her to go,’ says his pal, ‘I don’t want the law knowing I’m awake. I heard the docs say I may have brain damage or memory loss and that suits me just fine. Don’t tell anyone, not even Dawn.’ Frank looks round at the door where the police guard is seated, reading a newspaper, his back towards them. ‘What happened?’ He says, as quietly as he can. ‘That Buddy Flowers happened,’ growls Scotty, ‘he said if I did as they told me I wouldn’t get hurt but they whacked me over the head anyway and tied me up in the back of a van. I thought I was going to bleed to death or freeze. Look Dawn will be back any minute; take her home and look after her will you?’
Before he has time to answer, the door opens and Dawn re-appears with the nurse in tow. ‘Has he said anything?’ she asks excitedly, seeing that Frank is sitting by the bed. ‘Not a dickey bird,’ says Frank, sadly. The nurse says they should go home and get some rest. ‘You won’t be any good to him in your condition if you don’t look after yourself,’ she says to Dawn.
Dawn reluctantly takes her leave and says not a word all the way home, which is fine with Frank because he doesn’t know what to say either. He will certainly be having a few words with Buddy Flowers though.