Chasing Rainbows

Emma woke cold and stiff on the sofa. She tried to stretch, but her legs cramped up. The TV was grey; the film she was watching had turned itself off ages ago, and now the white noise was her only companion. Listening carefully, she suddenly realised that there was no one else home; Jacob was still out with his parents. She felt a little awkward, knowing that she should have been there with him providing the united front she was so determined they show. But that wasn't her battle, and whilst his feelings for his parents were influencing their relationship he had to deal with it, him not them.

Finally uncoiling and stretching to her full height, she made for the kitchen, and a drink. She was so bloody parched. Two glasses of apple juice still hadn't appeased her thirst, but the doorbell ringing stopped her indulgent drinking. The kitchen clock read three am, and suddenly it became clear, he'd got drunk, lost his keys, or as was usual, still had them in his pocket, but couldn't use his hands to locate them due to consuming far too many beers.

She couldn't hate him for that; she'd been awful to him earlier. So with a sympathetic smile, and an anticipation of tales of a desperate evening, she made for the door.

"Mrs Coren?"

Two uniformed police officers stood on her doorstep, and she immediately felt nausea, wafting over. Reaching out she used the door frame to stabilise herself, "that's me."

"Can we come in for a moment?"

She paused for a moment, looking between the man and woman in front of her, "sure."

Stepping back she led them into the lounge, gesturing towards the sofa that was still warm from her body, where she'd lain all evening.

The two officers sat, but she remained standing, suddenly this was all a little too stressful and she needed to pace.

"Is he okay?" Emma knew that it was Jacob, that something was wrong. And she knew that this wasn't good news, they wouldn't have come here addressing her as his wife if they weren't concerned about her husband, and he wasn't there. So there was a problem, wasn't there?

The female officer stood, and came across to her, placing a hand on her arm, "his vehicle was involved in an incident earlier this evening."

She gulped, hating the heat that washed over her in disabling wafts. The floor felt unsteady, or was it her legs. Either way she reached out and steadied herself against the wall. Turning slowly she looked at the two sets of eyes that were watching her intently. "And Jacob? Is he ok?"

As she watched them, waited for their response, she placed her hand over her heart, police didn't come to report a broken leg. There was so much she hadn't said, so much she hadn't done. She hadn't told him how she felt, hadn't told him WHY she was so angry with him. She didn't need to hear this, whatever they were going to say, she didn't need to hear it, couldn't deal with hearing it. Her other hand dropped to her baby, THEIR baby, needing the support of it at that moment. That link to her husband. Suddenly it wasn't enough, the baby wasn't enough to live with, she needed Jacob too. He was part of this; he'd offered her a future, promised her that the three of them would live together. He couldn't have gone. He wasn't allowed to leave her.

The female officer had stood, and was suddenly beside her, "the driver has been fatally injured. I'm really sorry to say." The female officer placed a hand on Emma's shoulder, "we found Jacob's wallet and phone in the car."

"But?"

The officer sighed, "we can't identify him, we need you to do that."

Emma took the deepest breath that she could. This was all so surreal that she couldn't begin to imagine what it all meant. Finally she lifted her eyes, met those of the officers, individually, "Me? You need me to identify him? His body?"

When they nodded, she felt as though her world was about to dissolve under her.

"I need to get dressed."

The male officer had been silent until now, but he spoke now, "you are his next of kin. Is there anyone who can come with you?"

She gave a hollow laugh, "no. I don't have any contacts here. Will you drive me?"

"Of course."

She nodded, "I'll just get changed."

Twenty minutes later she was in the back seat of a police car, cutting through the quiet late night city traffic, blue lights allowing them a stress free route through town.

Eventually the car stopped at the entrance to the general hospital, and once again, the female officer led her through the reception and in the direction of presumably the room that held her husband. Emma couldn't think the word 'body' because that was what he'd be if he was the man lying in the room. The police had taken time to explain the details surrounding the car, it was his new or rather vintage old car, there was no doubt about that. It had been found wrapped around a lamppost a few miles out of town, the driver, Jacob, unconscious or rather dead at the wheel. The charred wallet and mobile inside were definitely his. Two and two...always came to four.

"Take a seat; we'll just get things sorted."

Emma nodded, "ok."

Moments that seemed like hours, but were never truly enough, elapsed, and it wasn't long until the male officer appeared in front of her. "Are you ok for this?"

She placed a hand protectively over her stomach, took a few steadying deep breaths and then wished she'd called Isobel. She'd say and do the right thing. She'd be a rock. As it was, she had no one.

The corridors were interminably long, and every foot seemed like the last ten, doors, rooms, everything was the same, until they all paused at a closed door. The two officers tried to warn her, the man was badly burned; he wasn't as she'd remember him. That all she had to do was check out his features, identify that.

Emma could barely function, all she knew was that her world was about to end, Jacob had come to mean so much to her, he was everything to her, the thought that she wouldn't see his smile again, wouldn't poke him in the chest and tell him she hated him, wouldn't have him holding her hand when the baby actually arrived. The practical to the impractical, it was all there. All dragged away from her. But it was his smile, his approval, that chink of desire that she had witnessed on so many occasions. How would she live without that in her life again?

"You ready?"

She tried to analyse how her body felt, whether she could coordinate all four limbs to follow the officers, but she couldn't fathom further than breathing. That was as good as it got. With a hand over her stomach, the strongest and most tenable link to him, she nodded, and then followed the officer into the mortuary.

It smelled, the whole place smelled of something she couldn't describe, but also something she couldn't forget. It was death, chemicals, and negativity. And maybe the end of hope and dreams. As she crossed the sterile tiled floor, she knew that tears were already falling, that she was already losing any battle offered. There was a table in the middle of the room, and on it was a...body, she couldn't call it anything but, covered in a white sheet.

Emma could feel a hand at her elbow, a positive push; guidance in the right direction, a quick glance saw her meeting the eyes of the police officer, the woman who had been by her side for the last hour. She pitied the woman, because she knew that she could have been easier to manage, could have complied better, instead she'd been angry, hostile towards two people doing their job. She was being childish, when he found out Jacob would scorn her...

No he wouldn't! Suddenly it all came back home once more. He wouldn't say anything to her ever again. He'd not tease her, not provoke her, never make her laugh, never kiss her, never make love to her, she'd never see his eyes warm with humour again, and suddenly that was too devastating a thought.

Her knees were shaking, barely taking her weight; her heart was racing, nausea ever present in the back of her throat.

"You just need to tell us if this is, or isn't your husband. Ok?"

They waited until she nodded, then pulled back the sheet, revealing the body lying there. Because that was what it was, a body. Staring at it, Emma tried to take in all that she saw. Hair that was singed, she could still smell burning, the scent permeating her nostrils, so that she wondered if she'd ever smell anything again, but the hair was too blonde, the lips thin, the raw half burned face more angled than Jacob, the state of the bruised and battered body devastated her, the tears were flowing uncontrollably now, but as she looked up at the police woman, she shook her head.

"That's not him."

Neither officer expected that, "really?"

She nodded, "this isn't my husband."

"Are you sure?" Neither expected that, and as the woman stepped towards her, the man was on his radio passing the information on.

She knew they believed her, but her shaking, quaking legs defied her confidence, and when she staggered away, tried to get away from the body, the male officer helped her, held onto her and led her from the room. She knew she should feel relieved, but she wasn't. It was the most terrifying experience of her life, she'd never get the sight of that mauled, charred body from her mind, but all she could think of was that this was someone else's son, brother, maybe husband...but it wasn't hers. It wasn't her husband, but hers was still missing.

"Was there anyone else? In the accident? I mean he had Jacob's phone, and his wallet. Where is he?"

Her voice echoed in the eerie quiet, the corridor was deserted, after all it was five am, and most people were tucked up in bed.

"We have people looking for him, that's all I can say at this stage. We'll take you home."

Emma stopped frozen to the spot, then she turned venomously on the man, "what? You wake me at three am to tell me my husband is dead, then when he actually isn't the man you force me to identify, you make out like it's time to go home and go back to sleep. WHERE IS HE?"

The female officer sighed, then turned to her, "we have people looking for him."

"So you keep saying!" She knew she was irate, irrational, but the shock of the last few hours was having a bizarre effect on her.

Emma staggered away from the police officers, every step hard, but everyone away from the torment of that burnt body, the smell of charred hair, was a move in the right direction.

"Emma?"

She heard the word but didn't register it until it had been repeated three times. Glancing up, along the corridor that had been so painfully hard to walk a few minutes earlier, she saw a man, in the distance. But her eyes were blurred by tears.

"Emma?"

He was running, running towards her, and as he got closer the dinner suit, the unfastened tie, the sun kissed unruly hair, those chocolate brown eyes all came into focus.

"Jacob?" She wondered if she was delirious, whether she was imagining things.

"Jesus Em," and then those arms wrapped around him and the fear and anxiety poured out of her in long devastating sobs that she was unable to control. He scooped her up into his arms, ignoring the flinches of pain that the action caused, then walked firmly out of the hospital.