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Every Little Girls Dream
Book One
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.
I have based the tragic incident in the first chapter on a real event, and I salute those public servants and volunteers who worked so hard to manage the event, from every angle. My heart goes out to those directly and indirectly involved in the whole horrible affair, and I hope that I can, in some small way, pay homage to those who sought to bring relief and help.
Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don't read it.
Synopsis.
Tom Stewart is a rough, tough, seasoned, twenty-nine year veteran Police Inspector. Used to command, he is a popular, dedicated family man, on the eve of his half-century and facing the end of his career. He has lived with a secret for most of his life, successfully managing it. With retirement, he stands to lose the major factor in that success and he is very uncertain about how he will control the hidden urges.
Jenny Adams, a sixteen year-old schoolgirl, has her whole life ahead of her. She is bright, sensitive and pretty, she has everything going for her. She is returning from a day's shopping with her mother on a train.
The train is derailed in tragic circumstances. Jenny's mother is killed while Jenny sustains serious head injuries and is in a coma.
Inspector Stewart is aware of the incident, but not directly involved. Time, however, is perhaps up for Tom, as he is rushed to the same hospital in which Jenny lies on the brink of death.
One of them survives, but which one?
Join me in a voyage of true discovery.
Chapter Two
The Morning After
I awoke and immediately panicked. Something was down my throat and I felt enormous pain in my chest and head. I had that feeling that I'd been dreaming, but with everything that was going on, that sense fizzled away into forgotteness.
I gagged on the tube that was down my throat.
“Patient's awake, Doctor!” said a female voice. I noted that there was a lot of surprise in her tone.
“Bloody hell! Remove the ventilator, blood pressure?” replied a male voice and he too sounded surprised.
“Steady, eighty over one sixty. Heart rate normal and we have alpha back on the scope.”
“Where the hell has she been?”
A face wearing a mask swam into my field of vision.
“Welcome back, you gave a lot of people quite a scare. How do you feel?” he asked.
“Sore,” I croaked.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Chest and head. Back of the head, and lower left side of the chest.” I was really disorientated and my voice sounded really odd in my ears.
Was I still dreaming?
The man nodded and I saw the skin around his eyes crinkle, as if he was smiling behind the mask.
“Can you remember anything about the crash?”
I frowned.
“Crash?”
“You were in a train crash, what can you remember?”
“I remember going to bed,” I said, now confused.
I could see I was in hospital, so I concluded I must have had a heart attack. I looked round and could see no one I knew. I immediately wondered where I was, as I was certain I knew someone who was a nurse, but my memory was really fuzzy.
“Do you remember your name?” the doctor asked.
Of course I did. I opened my mouth and closed it again.
It was so frustrating, I knew my name, but for some silly reason just couldn't remember it.
Tears of frustration came to my eyes and that made me cross. I shook my head to try to clear my mind and that hurt, so the tears came more rapidly.
“It's all right, really it is. You've had a really nasty bang to your head and your skull is fractured, so don't worry, people often forget things.
Other people forget things. I don't!
In my mind's eye, I could see faces and yet I couldn't put names to them. I started to panic some more and this must have shown on the monitors as some form of distress.
I suddenly felt all sleepy and drifted into oblivion once more.
I didn't so much wake up as became increasingly aware that I may not be still asleep. In that nether world of neither sleep nor fully awake, I thought of the dreams I'd had. As I tried to remember those things I'd forgotten, the panic returned as I found I still could not remember them.
That single fact convinced me that I was awake and not dreaming.
It was with a feeling of dread that I opened my eyes and forced myself to become aware of the world around me.
I was still in hospital, as an I/V drip was attached to my left arm. Monitor leads were attached to my head and fingers. I had an oxygen mask over my face and curtains were pulled cutting me off from the rest of the world.
I felt uncomfortable down below and saw a tube disappearing under the bedclothes. I assumed it was a urinary catheter. However, I felt so woozy that I didn't really care. I closed my eyes again, but noises intruded.
“Hello, awake again?” said a pleasant female voice.
I turned towards the voice and felt the ache from the back of my head. I must have groaned, for the nurse who had spoken frowned.
“Careful, sweetie, you've got a nasty wound on the back of your head. How to you feel?”
“Confused,” I mumbled from behind the mask.
She leaned forward and removed the mask.
“Confused,” I repeated.
“I'm sure you are. Can you remember anything yet?”
I shook my head and, to my shame, I felt the tears returning.
What was happening to me?
“It's all right; it's very common to forget things when you get a nasty bang on the head. Don't worry, I'm sure the memories will come back,” she said.
Another nurse came in through the curtains and smiled at me.
“Hi, I'm Hannah, I'm taking over for the day shift. How are you feeling?” she asked.
“She's confused, poor dear, but she is looking so much better today,” said the first nurse.
“You certainly are, and I'm sure the confusion will clear up.”
Hannah went to the foot of my bed and picked up my chart.
“I thought Annie Stewart was on days today?” the first nurse asked.
“Haven't you heard? Her father had a heart attack. He was brought on Sunday night, but they couldn't save him. She's on compassionate leave, poor thing, she's really cut up. He was only forty-nine!”
“No? I met him last Christmas, wasn't he a copper?”
“That's him. He had a heart attack at home in bed, but by the time they got him here, he'd gone.”
I stared at them. I knew it had a bearing on me, but couldn't seem to think what it could be. The constant use of the female pronoun in relation to me completely baffled me and I wasn't sure why.
Hannah looked at me and smiled.
“Your Dad will be in later. He's having a sleep at the moment,” she said.
“My Dad?” I echoed, somewhat stupidly.
Hannah glanced at the other nurse and they exchanged a strange glance. Something stirred deep in my muddled brain and a weird conversation seemed to leap out at me, disappearing before I could grasp its context.
It was so frustrating not remembering anything. However, the name Annie struck a chord and somehow I knew that she was inexorably connected to me.
“What happened, why am I here?” I asked.
“There was a crash. The train was derailed and you were in one of the carriages with your mum. You got a nasty bang on the head, do you remember?”
I shook my head. The nurses exchanged glances.
“My Mum's dead, isn't she?” I asked, certain now that that was why the two nurses were behaving so oddly.
They exchanged glances again, and I knew I was right.
“Do you remember?” Hannah asked.
“No, but otherwise you'd mention her. I think I must have overheard a conversation, sometime. She is, isn't she?” I asked.
It was really odd, but it was almost as if I was playing a role and I knew that my real mother wasn't involved. I still had a sense of loss attached to a vague image of my mother, but it seemed too well established to be fresh. I also tried to picture her, but failed.
The tears of frustration started again but they were misinterpreted by the two women.
“I'm so sorry, Jenny. I'm sure they didn't mean for you to find out like this. You were actually very ill and probably no one thought you could hear. You so nearly died!” the first nurse, whose name I read on her little name badge as being Karen Horton.
I nodded, so cross with myself for crying at the slightest thing. Then it dawned on me – she called me ‘Jenny'. That elusive conversation floated through my consciousness once more and I grasped only one word – train.
“We were on a train?” I asked.
“Yes, dear. You were both in the carriage that split open and bent in half. Can you remember now?” Karen asked.
I shook my head and both nurses looked quite upset too.
“I must go,” Karen said. “It's lovely to see you better. I'm so sorry about your Mum, but your Dad has at least still got you and you've got him!”
I nodded, trying unsuccessfully to control my tears. The annoying thing was I didn't really know why I was crying. I felt guilty, as if I was expected to cry, for some strange reason.
Karen walked out through the curtain and Hannah smiled at me as she fussed about, making sure I was as comfortable as possible.
She was a tall woman, in her late thirties and with short red hair. She wore a wedding ring on her left ring finger and had a lovely smile. Green eyes twinkled humorously from under her fringe and she had that complexion that many redheads were blessed/cursed with, involving freckles that probably burned dreadfully in the sun.
She sat in the chair next to my bed, on the right hand side. She took my hand.
“This must be awful for you. I really am so sorry to have had to tell you the bad news. Your Dad has been here since just after you were brought in and he's really upset too. You so nearly died, your brain stopped for a while, the doctor thinks, so don't worry about not being able to remember things, it is very normal.”
I felt curiously detached, as if this wasn't happening to me, and I was a spectator on the inside.
“I'm okay,” I said, and actually felt it.
She smiled and squeezed my hand.
“Good girl. Try and be strong to get better, especially for your Dad. Men are such softies. They appear so hard on the outside and yet the crumple so easily when bad things happen.”
I smiled and nodded.
“What's wrong with me?” I asked.
“We'd better wait for the doctor to tell you,” she said.
“Please?” I said.
She smiled again.
“You got a really nasty bang on the head. Your skull was fractured, and you've had to have some bone removed. They put a small plate across the hole, so you should be fine now. Your chest was crushed and some ribs were fractured. We thought a lung was pierced, but it was just squeezed a little so it deflated. You'll feel sore for a while and you're all strapped up, but you should be right as rain in no time. The biggest worry was that your brain sort of stopped.”
“Sort of stopped, what do you mean?”
“Well, they attached a monitor and there was very little brain activity. You've heard of the expression, brain dead?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you were brain dead. They had you on a ventilator, but there wasn't a squeak out of you until the early hours of Sunday morning. It was quite exciting really, as you sort of came alive just about the same time as another patient died. So you surprised the heck out of the emergency team.”
“Was that the policeman you were talking about?” I asked.
“Yes, p oor man. His daughter is a nurse here and she was looking after you all day on Saturday. Anyway, it's so horrid when someone dies, so it was so nice that we were able to save one of you.”
I thought for a moment. Trying to get my brain to focus on a single strand for any length of time was really hard, yet something niggled me about the policeman who died. Strange thoughts flitted about like will o' the wisp and I felt cheated out of my memory.
“The doctor will be doing the rounds in a while, would you like a wash later?”
I nodded.
“He might allow you to eat something, but I'm sure you can have a drink. How about a carton of orange juice?”
“That'd be lovely, thanks.”
She smiled and left me alone, drawing the curtain so I could see the rest of the ward.
I was in one of four beds in a kind of side ward, and two of the others were empty. An old lady was asleep in the opposite bed. She had a mask over her face and thingies attached to her arm. Her wrinkled skin was a sort of yellow grey colour, while her breathing was harsh and laboured. She looked awful. I saw her false teeth were in a container next to the bed. They looked rather gruesome.
It was grey outside and I hadn't a clue what time it was, or even what day. If the accident had been on the Saturday, as the nurse had said, that meant that this was Sunday or maybe even later. If the policeman had died on the early hours on Sunday, then I came round shortly afterwards, the first time, passing out again.
I hated not knowing anything.
I was propped up with several pillows and there was one blanket over the top sheet. It was warm in the ward, but I felt quite cold. I struggled up slightly and felt a real ache in my ribs. My head swam and I felt dizzy. I suddenly had a memory of sitting on the side of a bath. As soon as it was there, it went. I got a sudden picture of a green sponge on the bath, in the shape of a spider.
Hannah came back with a small carton of juice with a straw.
She saw me struggling.
“Do you want to sit up a little?”
“Am I allowed to?”
“I don't see why not. How do you feel?”
“Achy and a bit dizzy.”
“Come on, but gently. If it hurts, stop. Okay?”
She helped me up, propping another pillow behind me. I felt a little dizzy, but it passed as I lay back and closed my eyes.
“What day is it?” I asked.
“Tuesday.”
I must have looked surprised and she smiled.
“You came round on Sunday and then the doctor gave you a sedative because you were in some distress. You've been sleeping like a baby. Your colour is so much better and your brain waves are normal now.”
I looked at the monitor and saw the wavy lines.
“Where's my Dad?”
“He's in one of the relative's rooms. We have some rooms of seriously ill patients whose families live too far away to keep travelling in, or there's some other reason. Although your home isn't far away, he had the room because of everything that has happened. He is very shocked, so the doctors didn't want him driving.”
“Oh. Where do I live?”
“Can't you remember?”
I frowned and tried to, but couldn't.
“I don't even remember my name,” I admitted and the tears started again. She took my hand and held it quite tightly for a while.
“It's okay, sweetie, it really is. It happens all the time. You're over the bad bit and so all you have to do is get better. Try not to worry, as stress can make it more difficult. I know that's so easy to say, but believe me; try to look forward and your memories will come back gradually. Some people even get it all coming back in a rush.”
I smiled, but it was so frustrating.
There was some movement down the ward and a couple of doctors appeared. One of them was the man I'd seen earlier, I think. It's hard to tell when they wear masks, but I recognised his eyes. He had nice eyes and a pleasant smile. He looked to be about thirty and had short sandy hair.
“How's my miracle girl this morning?” he asked. He was very well spoken, exuding confidence. I liked him immediately.
“I'm not sure. I can't remember anything.”
“How's the head?”
“Aches a little and I feel a bit dizzy when I move.”
“That's to be expected, you took quite a wallop. Ribs okay?” he asked, pulling the sheet back. Hannah pulled the curtain around the bed, shielding me from public gaze.
The doctor rolled up the hospital gown, exposing my lower torso. I stared at it as if it was the first time I had ever seen it and I felt a curious excitement well up inside me. I also noticed my breasts that wobbled slightly under the gown. The excitement grew and then I felt inexplicably elated.
“The catheter can come out now, nurse,” the doctor said, and Hannah nodded.
He gently placed his hands on my rib cage and asked me to move slightly. It hurt, but not sharply.
“Hmm, that's fine. How's the breathing?”
“Fine, I don't notice anything wrong,” I said, frowning.
“Your lungs were compressed when debris and bits of carriage crushed you. At one point, we thought they'd both collapsed. But they seem fine now.”
He pulled the nightgown back down, moving up to my head. He took the dressing off, peering at the sutures.
“Very clean. We had to shave your scalp, I'm afraid, but there should be no reason why your hair won't grow back in due course. I'm sure the hairdresser can come and do something to make it even. It'll look odd for a while, but you should be fine. Your skull was fractured and a piece of bone was pressing on your brain. We had to take the bone out, I'm afraid. You've a piece of titanium in there, so you may bleep every time you go through airport metal detectors.”
I lay back when he'd finished.
“Well, you don't need to be attached to all these monitors any more.”
He pointed to one of the two I/V bags.
“We'll take away the pain relief. This is a morphine-based drip, so if you feel pain, we'll give you something orally and it's slightly less potent. Do you feel up to eating yet?”
I shrugged.
“You've already had a drink, was that okay?”
I nodded.
“Excellent. I think you're young enough to repair very quickly. So, eat a little and drink as much as you like. If you want the loo and feel up to it, I'm sure the nurse will help you. You need to regain your strength as soon as possible, but don't overdo it, okay?”
I smiled and nodded.
“Okay.”
The doctor smiled and sat on the bed. He took my hand.
“I've just seen your Dad, he's having some breakfast. I'm not sure if anyone has told you, but you need to be aware that you mother was in the same accident, and I'm afraid she wasn't as fortunate as you. I'm sorry, Jenny, but she was killed.”
The tears came unannounced and I tried to fight them.
I nodded.
“I know. I think I overheard it earlier. The nurses told me.”
The doctor looked at Hannah.
“She seemed to already know, doctor, and asked a direct question,” she said.
“I'm so sorry, Jenny. If it helps, it was very quick, she wouldn't have known anything,” the doctor said.
I read his name badge.
Howard Rimmer .
I smiled and immediately thought of Red Dwarf.
I remembered something!
“Red Dwarf!” I said.
The doctors and nurses looked surprised and I had to stop myself from giggling.
“Your name, I remember Red Dwarf!” I said.
The doctor blushed slightly and Hannah burst out laughing.
“That was Arnold, my distant descendant,” he said with a grin. “At least that shows you still know how to read.”
I was so pleased at remembering something that the death of my mother was pushed to one side. I grinned inanely as if I had achieved something tremendous.
“That is a super sign, Jenny, but try to relax, you'll find that things will come back when you least expect them to.”
“Just like that?” I said, and then giggled.
He frowned.
“What's so funny?”
“Tommy Copper – Just like that!” I said.
He smiled again.
“Good girl, that's the way.”
He moved off and Hannah unplugged the various I/Vs and catheter. I was overly interested in what went on down there and watched spellbound as the long catheter was removed.
“There's always a chance of a urinary infection when these are removed. If you get a burning sensation when you have a wee, let us know.”
“ Whee ! Thanks a bunch,” I said sarcastically and she grinned.
“You don't happen to remember if you are due on again soon, do you?”
“Due on?” I asked, frowning.
“The curse, your period?”
I shook my head. Once again, my mind went into a whirl. This wasn't real. I didn't have periods, as they were for women!
Then what the hell was I?
I glanced at my pubic area, with fine fair hair curling delicately over the obviously female genitalia. The swell of my breasts beneath my gown was very real. I couldn't deny the evidence of my own senses.
I frowned.
They weren't mine!
They must be, they were attached to me and no one else was claiming them.
The feeling of excitement returned. Obscurely, it seemed as if I was suddenly granted something that had been previously withheld.
“Are you okay?” Hannah asked and I was jolted back to the real world.
Real world?
I was no longer sure of what was real or what wasn't. It was like living through a dreamlike state, where reality and fantasy seemed inseparable .
“Oh, my God, Jenny. Thank God, you've woken up!” a male voice said from a little way off.
I stared at a complete stranger as he walked towards me. I pulled down my gown and straightened the sheet.
Tanya Allen
Copyright 12.10.05