Page 74 of The Book Swap

“Where’s my husband?” she shouts. “I need to find my husband.”

There’s an ambulance toward the end of the car park, and she charges toward it, banging on the back windows.

“Is he in there? Gareth.” She’s got both fists on the glass, slamming them as hard as she can.

I approach her. She spins around, and the same wild eyes that just met me in James stare back at me.

“Are you James’s mum?” I ask.

I’ve never met her, but sometimes he’d tell us a little bit about her. Not a lot, but enough that this, coupled with her shouting Gareth’s name, allows me to figure it out. She must have been in the car. Why would James just leave her here? I push the thought away. I’m doing it again. I’m immediately judging him for behavior without waiting for an explanation.

“My husband’s had a heart attack,” she says, clinging to my arm, and heat pulses through my body. That’s what James meant. Of course he’s here for a reason, and the reason is that his dad might die. I didn’t even think to ask. “They took him, and I... I...”

She bursts into tears and I clutch her toward me, leading her in the direction James went.

“He’s a bastard. A bastard, that boy,” she says, spitting the words out as she lets me walk her. “Always has been. They don’t change. He’s not like his brother. Oh no. Elliot’s a good boy. He’s a very good boy.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and keep walking. I lead her toward the double doors, walking through them. I look around. James is on a chair to the right. He’s got his head in his hands, and for a moment he looks so like the James from school. Vulnerable. Worried. He flings his head up when he hears the doors and all of that washes away. We lock eyes, and he stands and walks toward us.

“Come on, Mum.”

“You get away from me,” she shouts. “I don’t want you touching me, I want my husband. I want my husband,” she yells in the direction of the receptionist, and he wrestles her gently away from me, walking her toward the seats.

Blushing, I turn away. I don’t want to embarrass him by staying and I can’t look at him anyway. Not now that I know why he’s here. I’m too ashamed. I ask the receptionist for directions to the maternity ward and follow the signs through a separate door.

James’s mother is still shouting as I walk away. Wanting her other son. The good one.

He was going through all that at school. His mum being ill and the bullying. He only had me and Bonnie, and then I cut him off. I made Bonnie do the same.

I’ve been so selfish with so many people in my life. With Bonnie. With Georgia. With James. Even, maybe, with Mum.

When I reach the maternity ward, I’m ready to say my sister’s name at reception. Be directed to a bed. I’m preparing myself for the worst. Ready to give her whatever it is she might need. Everything I never gave Bonnie.

“Erin,” she says from one of the seats in reception, standing up.

I walk over and hug her. “Have they not seen you yet?” I spin to the receptionist, accusatory.

“No, they have, I can go.” She’s got a slight smile on her lips as I follow her back out and follow signs toward the car park.

“What’s going on?” I ask, running after her.

“I’ll tell you at the car.”

“Tell me now. Is everything okay?”

“It’s all okay,” she says, resting her hand on her bump, and I let out all the breath in my body.

We reach the car, and I open the passenger door for her.

Once we’re sitting, she turns to me, biting her lip.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she says.

“Why?”

“It was bloody hemorrhoids. Literally bloody,” she adds, allowing a small laugh.

“Oh, thank God.”

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