Page 47 of The Unforgiven
“Mrs. Russell, Dr. Russell,” she said by way of greeting. She suddenly looked very young and vulnerable.
“Where’s my husband?” Phoebe demanded.
“Mrs. Russell, I’m terribly sorry,” the doctor began.
“Sorry about what?”
“Mr. Russell became very agitated when Dr. Nixon informed him that he’d have to remain in hospital for several days. He said he wanted to go home and tried to get out of bed. He became quite irate.”
“So you moved him?” Phoebe asked, her expression hopeful.
Dr. Spencer stared at her shoes, her face pale against her white coat. “Mrs. Russell, we tried to calm him down, but he became so upset that he suffered another cardiac event. We did everything we could.”
“Are you saying he’s dead?” Phoebe whispered.
“We tried to resuscitate him, but I’m afraid his heart was too badly damaged. He died almost immediately.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Phoebe cried.
“We did, but you must have already left for the hospital. We thought it best to tell you in person and not break the news to you while you were driving,” Dr. Spencer explained. “I’m terribly sorry.”
Phoebe sank into the chair she’d vacated only a moment ago. She was white as a sheet, her eyes glazed with disbelief. “He’s gone,” she muttered. “Just like that. Can I see him?” she asked, her head snapping up to confront Dr. Spencer.
“Yes. He’s been moved to the mortuary.”
“The mortuary,” Phoebe whispered in disbelief. “He won’t like it there. It’s cold.”
Dr. Spencer glanced at Gabe, as though hoping he’d step in.
“Mum, why don’t I take you home?” Gabe suggested. He was gutted by his father’s death, but his first priority was his mother, who was clearly in shock.
“I have to see your father. I’m not leaving until I do.”
“All right. We’ll go see Dad.” Gabe nodded to Dr. Spencer. “If you would…”
“Of course. Come with me, please.”
Gabe linked his arm through his mother’s to steady her. She looked as if she could barely walk, but she shuffled after Dr. Spencer. She looked confused and terrified, and Gabe wished he could spare her this.
“Mum, how about I go see Dad and you just wait outside?” he suggested, but Phoebe shook her head.
“No, son. I need to see him and say goodbye privately. We were married for over forty years. I can barely remember my life before Graeme,” she said, her voice wistful. “He was difficult at times, stubborn and opinionated, but he was honest, hardworking, and loyal to a fault. He loved me, and I loved him. Thank you.” She suddenly looked up at Gabe.
“For what?”
“For Emma. She made him so happy. I’m so glad he got to meet her before…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but Gabe knew what she meant. “I’d like to go in alone,” Phoebe announced.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. You wait outside, you hear?”
Gabe nodded and watched his mother disappear with Dr. Spencer through the mortuary door, then turned away. Though he wanted to support his mother, he was grateful not to have to see his father laid out on a metal slab. He’d see him at the funeral where Graeme would be dressed in his best suit, with his hair brushed and his moustache trimmed. His father would appreciate that finalbit of vanity. Graeme Russell would hate for anyone to see him in his hospital gown with gray stubble covering his cheeks and his thinning hair in disarray.
Gabe sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands as silent tears slid down his unshaved cheeks. His father was gone. His mother was a widow. Emma had just lost another person she loved. And he would have to tell her.
TWENTY-SIX
The clock struck midnight, but Gabe’s mind was too restless to go to sleep, despite the fact that he hadn’t slept at all the night before. His mind kept replaying the events of the day. Gabe couldn’t help wondering if giving in to his mother and remaining at the hospital instead of taking her home to rest would have made any difference. Was he responsible for his father’s death? Had she stayed, would Phoebe have been able to calm her husband down and prevent another heart attack? Dr. Spencer didn’t seem to think so, but it was possible, and for the rest of his days Gabe would have to live with the guilt.
