‘I’ve brought you some pictures of my family.’ She had photographs in her bag—of herself with Isaac when he was a baby, together with some more recent ones, and some precious images of her parents. ‘Would you like to see them?’
‘Yes.’
That was a start. Charlotte began with the picture of Isaac. ‘This is my son. His name is Isaac, and he was born on a Saturday.’
Mercy studied the picture carefully. ‘Then in my country he would be called Kwame.’
Edward’s curiosity got the better of him and he leaned forward. ‘For Saturday?’
‘Yes.’
‘I was born on a Friday.’
Mercy smiled. ‘Nurse Efie.’
Charlotte grinned. ‘That’s a lovely name. Thank you for telling me. What’s yours?’
‘Abena. My English name is Mercy.’
‘You have a lovely smile, Mercy Abena.’
* * *
Charlotte had been alone with Mercy for almost an hour when Edward’s phone beeped. He checked the text which had just arrived and made for Mercy’s room. Charlotte was waiting for him outside the door.
‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’ She looked nervous, moving her weight slightly from one foot to the other.
‘You said “asap”.’
Charlotte wasn’t one of those people who peppered all of her communications with either ‘asap’ or ‘urgent’. When she said it, she meant it.
‘I’ve noticed something...about Mercy.’ She seemed almost reticent to tell him.
‘Right. What have you seen?’
‘It may be nothing...’
‘What have you seen, Charlotte?’
She took a breath and seemed to loosen up slightly. ‘We were talking together, getting on fine, and then all of a sudden she seemed to zone out. It only lasted for a little over ten seconds.’
He nodded, turning the various possibilities over in his mind. ‘The nurses have said that she seems very withdrawn sometimes. Do you think it could just be her mental state?’
‘Maybe.’ She clasped her hands together—a small, nervous gesture. ‘It doesn’t feel like that to me.’
‘Okay. What does it feel like?’ This wasn’t his normal method of diagnosis, but he was willing to give Charlotte the space to prove him wrong.
‘I think she may be having Absence Seizures.’
‘Epilepsy?’
Charlotte nodded. ‘Her eyes rolled back, very briefly, and her eyelids fluttered a little. I leant forward and put my hand on her arm and she didn’t react. Afterwards she didn’t seem to have any recollection of what had happened.’
‘That was quick thinking. Well done.’ Most people would have attributed a short period of absence to being the daydream of a teenager, far from home and trying to block out what was happening around her.
‘I could be wrong. I looked on her notes and no one else has reported anything like this.’
Edward shrugged. ‘Which just means you’re a bit more observant than the rest of us.’
It wasn’t only that. Charlotte had a habit of looking at people when she talked to them, giving them her full attention. Until he’d met her he hadn’t realised just how few people really did that.
She flushed pink with pleasure. ‘So you’ll take a look at her? Ask her about it?’
‘Nope.’ He turned towards Mercy’s door, twisting the handle. ‘You’re going to do that. I’ll watch and learn.’
She was cheerful and relaxed with Mercy, as if nothing had happened, sitting down by her bed and motioning Edward to do the same. Charlotte worked her way round to the subject of the seizure quickly, but deftly, as if it was just another routine set of questions which had to be asked.
‘When we were talking together just now you seemed to lose me for a moment. Dr Edward and I would like to ask you about that, if it’s all right with you?’
‘There is...nothing.’ The sudden look of hostility in Mercy’s eyes spoke far louder than her words.
‘I’m sure there isn’t. But can we ask, all the same?’
Charlotte leaned towards Mercy, a look of gentle encouragement on her face, and Mercy shrugged.
‘Okay, then. Well, you seemed not to hear or see me for a little while. Has that happened to you before?’
Mercy’s gaze flipped sullenly from Charlotte to Edward, then back again.
‘It doesn’t make you a bad person, Mercy. A little boy in my son’s class at school has the same thing.’
‘He does?’
‘Mmm-hmm. The doctors can stop it, though. Dr Edward could stop it.’
‘Can you?’ Mercy’s gaze fixed on Edward.
‘Yes.’ He wondered whether he should say more and decided not to. Charlotte would fill in any of the details that she thought were necessary.
‘We’ll have to do some tests.’
Apparently a quick wrinkle of the nose was enough to help describe a blood test to rule anything else out, and an EEG which would pick up any unusual electrical activity in Mercy’s brain.
‘They’re okay. They don’t hurt.’
‘And you can cure it?’
‘Of course. If it’s what we think it might be, then it might well just stop all of its own accord when you get a bit older. In the meantime we can stop it.’ Charlotte reached forward, taking Mercy’s hand. ‘But Dr Edward needs to know all about this first, so he can do the right thing.’
Mercy hesitated. ‘Some people say that this is a bad spirit...’
‘No. It’s nothing like that, Mercy. Trust me. Sometimes we just...skip a beat for a few moments.’ Mercy looked unconvinced, and Charlotte tried again. ‘Dr Edward told you that he could make your arm better, didn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
‘And he did, right?’ She waited for Mercy’s nod. ‘Then ask him if this has anything to do with bad spirits.’
Mercy seemed disinclined to ask a second time, but Edward answered anyway. ‘It’s nothing to do with anything like that, I promise you. It’s an illness, and we can make you well with medicine.’
Mercy nodded. ‘I do skip a beat sometimes.’
‘How often? How many times every day?’ Edward leaned forward.
‘Three or four. Sometimes more.’
Charlotte nodded, as if that was just the right number of times to ‘skip a beat’ every day. ‘And how long has this been happening?’
Mercy shrugged. ‘Always.’
‘Mmm...’ Charlotte seemed to approve of that, too, although Edward couldn’t see its significance. ‘So is it all right if we do the tests, then? Like I said, they won’t hurt.’
‘Yes, Nurse Efie.’
A quick nod of her head and she turned to Edward. ‘Blood test?’
‘It’s what I’d do.’ He couldn’t resist teasing her, just a little. ‘Want me to go and fetch a kit for you?’
She rolled her eyes at him to conceal her smile. ‘No. I’ll go.’
*