Mum sat on the floor now, a few paces away, her hands over her face.
The boys paused in their wrestling when they saw the blood.
‘Does Grandpa need a bandaid?’ Miles asked.
That snapped everyone into action. The celebrant stood and ran out of the room. The harp stalled.
‘Is there a doctor in the house?’ she called.
62
TULLY
There was a doctor in the house. In fact, there were several. They hurried into the sacristy, removing hats and suit jackets. A man got there first, but he moved aside when an older female arrived.
She kneeled beside him. ‘Has someone called an ambulance?’ she asked calmly.
‘I’m on the phone to them now,’ Sonny said.
Tully hadn’t realised he was standing beside her until that very moment. Holding the phone to his ear with one hand, with the other he ushered the boys away and into the care of a couple of wedding guests whom Tully didn’t recognise.
‘I need something to stop the bleeding,’ the woman said, as several more doctors arrived and Tully, Rachel and Heather were all pushed back, out of the way. Heather was bone-white and shaking. Rachel was still. Unnaturally so.
‘What happened?’ Sonny asked, his phone still pressed to his ear. ‘Who saw it?’
He looked at Tully. Tully had seen it, of course. She’d seen Rachel bring that candlestick down on Dad’s head with what looked – and sounded – like incredible force. But she also saw what Dad had done to Mum a moment before that. And she had a feeling that, if Rachel hadn’t done it, she would have.
Another doctor pushed past, carrying what looked like a woman’s shawl, presumably to help stanch the bleeding. The movement jolted Tully from her frozen state and she stepped forward.
‘Mum hit him,’ she said in a loud, clear voice. ‘With the candlestick. It was an accident. She . . . she was playing a game with the boys.’
She didn’t glance at Rachel, despite feeling her sister’s gaze on her. She didn’t look at Heather either, too afraid of what she might see.
Sonny nodded and spoke into the phone.
‘No,’ Rachel said. ‘Sonny, it was –’
But her voice was lost in the din, and Sonny was entirely focused on Tully.
‘Where did she hit him?’ he asked. ‘What part of the head did she connect with?’
‘This part,’ Tully said, pointing to the back of the skull.
‘Sonny,’ Rachel tried again. ‘It was –’
‘– horrible,’ Heather said. ‘But let’s not get into it now. We need to give them space to work on your dad.’
Sonny turned and headed back into the throng to report the information to the doctors, as Mum came and stood with her daughters and Heather. Through the window, Tully could see the guests filing out of the chapel through a side door. She heard the siren of the approaching ambulance. She heard the doctors working on Dad. The commentary between them was short and clipped. She heard one of them say, ‘He’s not breathing. Can anyone get a pulse?’
Tully listened hard.
There was no response.
63
HEATHER
The hospital was buzzing. Two uniformed police stood at the end of the hallway, waiting to take them all to the station to give statements. Heather sat on the floor with her back against the wall, the hem of her wedding dress grey with dust and grime and blood. Her wedding shoes lay beside her. Three people had offered Heather a seat, but she’d shaken her head without even looking up. She couldn’t move – it was taking all of her energy to merely exist. Was this what shock was like? In theory, she should have been in shock before – when her mother died or when her father was convicted of her murder – but neither of those experiences felt anything like this. That was a thin, reedy feeling, an empty quiet that preceded a storm. This was all-consuming pain – a loud, raging inferno that threatened to burn her to the ground.
She, Tully, Rachel and Pam had followed the ambulance to the hospital, with Sonny driving. Sonny had planned to drop Pam back to the nursing home on the way, but one of Stephen’s colleagues had called Rachel and told them to come to the hospital right away. Now they were in the hallway in their wedding clothes, waiting. For what? Heather wondered. She’d seen Stephen. She knew the news wasn’t going to be good. The question was . . . did she even want it to be?
It was a strange feeling, finally having her answer. All those months she’d doubted herself. All that counselling. The visit to her father! All to convince herself, and everyone else, that she was crazy. How had she fallen for it? The moment she saw Stephen holding Pam, she knew. They all knew. And yet, if Rachel hadn’t brought the candlestick down on his head, she felt certain Stephen would have talked her out of what she knew. For that reason, she wouldn’t let anything happen to Rachel. It could have been her who did this to Stephen. Perhaps it should have been.