"Her chest has been crushed. All of her ribs are broken. One knee is badly damaged too. If we get her back on her feet again, I'm afraid that that knee will not work perfectly again."
If we get her back on her feet? I feel sick, Gunder thought. His breakfast churned in his stomach. A wide door opened into a small room. He saw something dark against the white pillow, but couldn't see how that could really be his sister, Marie. He stood in front of the bed, shaking.
"We have to find Karsten," he stuttered. "Her husband. He's in Hamburg."
"I'm glad we were able to get hold of you," the doctor said. He helped Gunder into a chair. Marie was white, almost blue below the eyes. A tube was taped in place across her mouth. He heard a slow, hissing sound from the respirator. It sounded like a giant heavily asleep.
"What we are most concerned about," the doctor said, clearing his throat, "is the trauma to her head. We won't know the extent of it until she regains consciousness."
What did he mean? Was she no longer herself? Would she wake up and have forgotten who he was? Forgotten how to talk, or laugh, or that two and two made four? Might she open her eyes and look at him not knowing who she even was herself? Gunder felt himself tumbling into a deep pit. But he clung to the thought of Poona. Her face appeared at the edge of this cavernous darkness, smiling.
He kept looking at his watch. Marie was tiny in the bed and her round face had lost all its contours. He had to let someone in on his secret about Poona. Someone he trusted, who would not laugh or make him doubt. Someone who was willing to do him a favour.
"Marie!" he whispered.
No response. Did she hear him?
"It's me. Gunder. I'm sitting by your bed."
He looked at the doctor despondently. His eyes brimming with tears.
"Everything is going to be fine," he said. "Poona and I are going to take care of you."
It helped to say her name out loud. He wasn't, after all, alone.
The clock was ticking. He could not leave Marie – what would she think? What would the doctors think if he popped his head round the ward sister's door and said, "I'll be off now. I have to pick someone up at the airport." He tried to organise his thoughts, but they refused to let themselves be organised. Would he at last have found a wife, but at the same time lose a sister? He buried his face in his hands in despair. The doctor came over and stood close to him.
"I'm going now. Call… if there's anything."
Gunder rubbed his eyes hard. Who could he depend upon? He did not have close friends. Had never wanted any. Or had not managed to make any, he was no longer sure which. Time passed. The respirator tormented him with its hissing sound, he was almost tempted to switch it off to avoid having to listen to it. It interfered with his own breathing and made him breathless. Eventually he let go of Marie's hand and got up abruptly. Went into the corridor and found a payphone.
Gunder never took minicabs himself, but he knew the number by heart. It was on Kalle's Mercedes in black numbers. He answered at the second ring.
"Kalle. It's Gunder Jomann. I'm at the Central Hospital. My sister has been in a car crash!"
At first there was only silence at the other end. He could hear Kalle's breathing.
"That's dreadful," he said with feeling at last. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Yes!" Gunder said. "It so happens that I'm expecting a visitor from abroad. From India."
Not a word from Kalle, who knew about Gunder's journey to India and was beginning to realise the implication.
"She's arriving at Gardermoen from Frankfurt at 6 p.m. and is expecting me to meet her. But there is no way I can leave Marie. She's in a coma," he whispered.
"Oh? I see." Kalle's voice was barely audible.
"Would you collect her for me?"
"Me?" Kalle said.
"You have to drive to the airport and find her! With your taxi, you can surely park at the main entrance. Charge whatever you have to. But you need to leave right away if you're to make it. When she comes out of the arrivals hall and doesn't see me, she'll probably go to the information desk. She's Indian," he repeated. "She has long dark hair, which is plaited. A bit younger than me. And if you don't see her you have to get them to page her. Her name is Poona Bai."
"Could you say her name again?" Kalle said uncertainly.
Gunder did as he was asked.
Kalle had finally collected himself. "Shall I take her back to your house?"
"No, bring her here, please. To the Central Hospital. My sister's married name is Dahl. She's in a neurology ward on the tenth floor."
"I need the flight number," said Kalle. "An awful lot of planes land there."
"I forgot it at home. But it lands at six o'clock. From Frankfurt."
Gunder sensed his despair was taking over. He thought of the fear that would grip Poona when she couldn't find him.
"Kalle," he whispered. "She's my wife. Do you understand?"
"No." Kalle sounded frightened.
"We were married in India on August 4th. She's coming to live in Elvestad."
Kalle stared wide-eyed through his front window. "I'm leaving right away!" he cried. "Stay with your sister, I'll take care of this."
"Thank you!" said Gunder. He wanted to cry with relief. "Tell Poona I'm so sorry."
Kalle started the car, but did not flick on the meter. A few minutes later the white Mercedes was roaring down the E6.
He went back to Marie's room. No change. To think that she could not breathe on her own. He imagined her lung as a flimsy balloon speared by the sharp bone splinters. Then it had collapsed. They had re-inflated it and reshaped it. The doctor had said that the cuts would heal on their own. This, too, was good. He looked at the clock. A nurse appeared at regular intervals. She looked at Gunder and smiled. Told him he needed a break, to go and get a bite to eat.
"I couldn't face food," said Gunder.
"I'll get you a drink."
Slowly he began dozing. The respirator was starting to make him sleepy; it was exactly like clockwork. Sucking the air out of Marie, forcing it back in, sucking it out. The time was 5.58 p.m. He thought, Poona's plane will be landing now. I hope to God that Kalle will have made it. That he will find her in the crowd. He stared down at his sister. Then it occurred to him that he had not asked a single question about the accident. What about the other car? What about the people in it? Why hadn't anyone said anything? He was smitten by the horrifying thought that perhaps someone had died. That Marie would wake up to a nightmare. He thought of Karsten who still knew nothing. Was he sitting somewhere with a foaming beer in front of him, perhaps listening to the raucous bellowing of German drinking songs? Soon Poona will be getting her luggage, he thought, and she too knows nothing of what has happened. Kalle is looking for her now. He could see clearly his greying head standing out among the crowd. The nurse reappeared. Gunder summoned up his courage.
"What actually happened?" he said. "The accident. What did she hit? Another car?"
"Yes," the nurse said.
"What happened to the other driver?"
"He's not doing so well," the nurse said.
"I do need to know what happened," he pleaded. "She may wake up and ask me. I need to know what to say!"
She looked at him gravely. "He's here. But we couldn't save him." She bent over Marie and pulled up her eyelids. He saw the dead expression in them and gulped. A man had died and perhaps it was Marie's fault.
Then another nurse arrived. She held a cordless phone in her hand. His heart leapt in anticipation. It was Kalle.
"I couldn't find her," he said, out of breath. "She must have gotten another cab."
Gunder panicked. "You didn't see her at all?"
"I looked everywhere, and they paged her, but she must have got her luggage and cleared customs really quickly. I asked at the information desk if anyone of that name had been there looking for help and they paged her while I was waiting, but no-one came."