Page 113 of Knights Game

“Grandad.” I crouch next to him. A plaster has been put over his head and the side of his face looks red and swollen. “What have you done to yourself?” I try to take his hand but he’s having none of it.

“Who the bloody hell are you?”

“It’s Layla, Grandad.” I take his good hand as the doctor examines the other. My presence has distracted him just enough.

“Layla?”

I smile, even though inside I’m wilting like a flower.

“Sarah?” He squints and my heart cracks.

“Yes, it’s me. What are you doing to yourself? The doctor said you fell.”

“Did I?” He looks over at his hand, frowning. “It feels okay.” He clenches it and turns it. “Bit bruised maybe. My head hurts.” He pulls his hand away from me and touches the bandage, trying to remove it.

“No, Grandad, leave it there.” I pull his hand back down. “It’s there to make it better.” He looks at his hand in mine frowning, his confused expression turning into one of anger.

Tears fill his eyes. “You’re not Sarah.”

“Grandad, please.”

He pushes me away.

“Where’s my Sarah?” he says, his voice tired and gruff. “Sarah! Sarah! Where are you?” Tears track down his face, and I try to push my emotion down. The carer is trying to shush him as I watch on helplessly.

“Sarah isn’t here, Reg, but Layla is. Layla always comes to see you.”

“Where’s Sarah?”

“Grandad.”

His hand lashes out suddenly and he hits me with such force I fall backwards, my tailbone hitting the ground.

“Oh no!” Sally says, rushing to help me up. “Are you okay?”

“I should go, I don’t think I’m helping.” My voice shakes, and I touch my cheek where he hit me. Quietly, I leave the room.

The tears that I had managed to hold at bay explode, and I walk down the hallway as the paintings on the wall blur behind them. A sob claws at my throat, and I desperately try to contain it.

I just need to make it outside.

I just need to get to the bench under his window. I sit down on the cold wood and look at his favourite tree, the birds coming and going. I can still hear his shouting from inside.

I swallow down the pain as my tears track down my face and breathe through my heartbreak. I know when the sedation takes hold, because everything becomes deathly silent, and the only thing that I can hear is my own muffled breathing and the birds chirping happily, completely oblivious to the sea of torment running through me.

Sylvia comes shortly after with a tea and sits with me, telling me that they are waiting for the transport to take him to the hospital. I can see him if I want to. Then disappears, leaving me with my messy thoughts.

A robin lands at the bird feeder, and I tilt my head in question. I’ve never noticed a bird feeder before. The robin flies away as another bird lands, the feeder bringing more and more birds to the little tree for a visit.

A car pulls up. His car.

He’s changed clothes, his suit gone, replaced by jeans and a long-sleeve black T-shirt that hugs his muscles.

“Layla?” Concern creases his beautiful features, and he joins me on the bench. His sandalwood scent, the warmth of his body so close sets me off. I’ve never had someone drop everythingto come to me, certainly someone who is dealing with the aftermath of the dockyards.

He’s left everything in whatever state it’s in, he’s dropped it all.

For me, but after last night…I’m so confused.

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