Stories

Stories >> Stories home >> The curse of New Year

The curse of New Year

Midnight strikes, and it's life or death for my family...


Published by: Joe Cusack and Laura Hinton
Published on: 5 January 2012

The last place I expected to be on New Year's Eve was the hospital. Yet here I was, anxiously praying that my beautiful daughter Lacey would live to see 2010.
I'd suffered a placenta eruption at eight months, and had needed an emergency caesarean. The nurses had whisked Lacey off straight away, leaving me and my boyfriend Liam, 19, distraught.
‘Her oesophagus hasn't developed properly,' the doctor
had told us. ‘She needs to have major surgery. There's a chance she won't survive.'
‘Do what you can,' I'd begged. Me and Liam, my childhood sweetheart, may not have planned Lacey, but not having her in our lives now was unthinkable.
She'd had the operation at just two days old, and we'd barely left her bedside in the four weeks since. Watched like hawks as her chest rose and fell, aided by a breathing tube.
‘She's going to pull through,' Liam told me now, reaching into her incubator to stroke her cheek. Lacey suddenly stretched... and twined her tiny hand around his finger. It was as if she knew we were there, willing her on.
As we sat there feeling helpless, it dawned on me that midnight had come and gone.
‘Happy New Year,' I sighed. ‘I can't believe it, the whole festive period has passed us by.'
‘Yeah, just an hour at Mum's on Christmas Day, then straight back here to be with Lacey,' Liam nodded. ‘Even that hour away from her had felt like an eternity...'
Bless him, he was such a big softie. Luckily, Lacey was tougher than she looked, because when she was just six weeks old, we brought her home.
Me and Liam couldn't have been happier watching our girl grow.
Before we knew it, Christmas was here again!
I decorated the living room just like Santa's grotto, crammed Lacey's presents under the tree, made everything perfect. ‘She isn't even going to remember,' Liam teased.
‘But we will,' I replied. ‘This time for all the right reasons.'
On the big day, I was surrounded by scrunched-up wrapping paper, teddies, dolls and toys. In the centre of it was Lacey, a healthy, happy baby...
New Year's Eve quickly rolled around. We were happy just to stay in with Liam's family at his mum Jill's house.
‘This year's going to be the best yet,' he grinned, as we snuggled up on the sofa. New year, new start...What more could I ask for?
When the clock struck midnight, we all hugged. ‘Happy New Year!' everyone cheered. Moments later, Liam pulled me aside.
‘I'm going to nip out and wish Lee a happy New Year,' he said, kissing me. Lee, 22, was a pal of Liam's, who lived a few doors down from Jill, 44.
I watched some telly, didn't bother moving when the doorbell rang two minutes later. Jill answered it instead.
Seconds later, her deafening screams echoed around the house. Heart pounding, I followed her voice outside. Liam!
He was slumped on his knees on the garden path, with a dark circle of blood spreading slowly across his white t-shirt. There was a knife on the ground - he'd been stabbed!
I just stared for a minute, unable to comprehend the scene in front of me... then Liam's terrifying groans snapped me back to reality. ‘Oh my God,' I gasped, falling beside him. I reached out and held him to me. Sweat was dripping from his ashen face.
‘Don't leave me,' I begged. He mumbled something back. I leaned closer. What was he saying?
‘St-Stuart,' he gasped. ‘Stuart.'
I knew then who'd done this. Stuart Simm, a well-known local gang leader. Why pick on Liam? They didn't know each other...
All of a sudden, fireworks exploded above me - the rest of the world was celebrating.
Even at that moment, the cruel irony wasn't lost on me. Last New Year, I was begging Lacey not to die... now I was cradling my dying boyfriend in my arms.
By the time an ambulance arrived, Liam's head was hanging limp over his body. ‘Don't let him die,' I screamed.
When I reached the hospital, he was already having an emergency operation. As doctors battled to repair the damage to Liam's chest, where he'd been stabbed with an eight-inch Rambo-style hunting knife, we all waited. Two police officers came into the family room and took statements.
‘I know the name of the person who did this,' I said immediately. ‘Stuart Simm!'
They noted his name.
Next, the consultant spoke to me. ‘Liam has suffered a punctured lung and massive internal damage. He only has a 10 per cent chance of survival.'
‘No!' I cried. Why had this happened? It made no sense. Over the next five hours, more pieces of the story came together as friends who'd been at Lee's text me.
Apparently, a gang of 10 lads had shouted at Liam as he'd walked past. Stuart Simm was shouting: ‘I'm going to stab someone, I'm going to kill someone.' There'd been no reason why the lads had shouted at my fella, or why Simm had picked on him. Liam had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
While in surgery, they needed to remove his badly damaged left kidney. I broke down in Jill's arms at that news. ‘He can't leave me and Lacey,' I wept.
Friends and family started turning up. Every time I had to say the words, I broke down that little bit more. ‘They think he's going to die,' I sobbed.
I just wanted to see him, to hold him. Finally, I was allowed to see him in intensive care. My heart ripped at the seams when I saw the breathing tube, and his chest rising and falling - just like Lacey's had last year.
‘I love you,' I whispered, tears trickling. ‘Don't give up. Happy New Year, remember?'
A few hours later, he was awake! I felt a rush of relief. The fact his eyes were open had to be good news. All right, he was on a ventilator, so couldn't speak, but...
Then I got closer. Liam's eyes spoke volumes. He was scared, upset, confused. ‘Don't worry,' I hushed. ‘It'll be okay.'
To everyone's amazement, it was. Before I knew it, January 1 had turned into January 2, 3... Liam stabilised and was taken off the ventilator.
‘Lacey?' he croaked eventually.
‘She's fine,' I said. ‘Just missing her daddy. It's over now.'
If only it were. Liam was discharged a fortnight later, but was still haunted by what had happened. ‘I thought the gang of lads were just in high spirits,' he'd say again and again. ‘But then Stuart screamed, asking if I knew who he was. He charged at me.'
Stuart Simm, 17, pleaded guilty to grievous bodily harm with intent to cause serious injury at Liverpool Crown Court. Liam and me watched him sentenced to a minimum of four and a half years.
No sentence would ever be enough. Liam's afraid to leave the house now, has even shelved plans to train as a mechanic.
At least we have each other, though. This New Year's Eve, the three of us will stay at home, together. For once, we're definitely hoping for a night not to remember...
Laura Hunter, 20, Warrington, Cheshire