Page 81 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

‘Yes. I’ve been to visit him.’

‘And that bitch?’

‘If you mean his wife, then yes, I’ve seen her too.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you have.’

‘Mam, stop.’

My intake of breath is so sharp it disturbs Ellie, who tosses and turns before snuggling back to sleep. I already knew Shayne was Elaine’s son. Somewhere in the back of my mind, when I suspected that Malcolm was her father, I did the family tree maths. But hearing him call her Mam still shocks me.

‘They’re in there,’ Elaine says, and I can only assume she is talking about Ellie and me.

I hold my breath as I hear the squeaky sound of footsteps approach on the highly polished hospital floor. Shayne peeks his head round the door slowly, as if he might be disturbing me.

I feel lighter and more awake as soon as I see him.

‘Oh, Bea.’

‘I’m okay.’

My throat is dry and my voice is scratchy and I don’t sound particularly okay at all, and the look on his face says he doesn’t believe me.

‘What happened?’

I blush. ‘Not sure.’

His face pinches. I am sure, of course. I know I had a panic attack. Or, at least that’s what Google says.

‘I’m so glad you called,’ he adds, and I know he means that. I am so glad I called too. Suddenly all the thoughts and worries that were in my head before he arrived fade away. I don’t feel the need to apologise or explain. I can say nothing at all and I know that’s okay. Trouble is, I wish I could tell him. I ache to tell Shayne every damn detail of the last couple of weeks. I so desperately want to tell someone how hard it’s been. I want to tell someone I’m scared and lonely and stressed on a level that I didn’t even know it was possible to be. I want to let it all spill out, because maybe just maybe then it will stop eating me up from the inside out. And the only person I could possibly imagine telling is Shayne. And that scares me.

‘What are they saying?’ Shayne asks, looking around the dimly lit ward, and I know he’s talking about the doctors.

‘Nothing, really. They just want me to stay for twenty-four hours for observation. I don’t think it’s necessary, really, but you know what Elaine is like?—’

I cut myself off quickly, remembering their relationship.

‘Oh, I know,’ he says dryly. ‘So, tell me, what kind of bedtime story do we need here?’

I stroke Ellie’s hair. ‘Princesses. She loves all the Disney princess, but I think we might have gone past story time.’

Shayne nods, and I can literally see him making a mental note.

‘I really do appreciate this,’ I say, suddenly serious. ‘I know taking my kid wasn’t what you signed up for when you gave me your number but…’

‘I’m happy to help.’

‘I know, I know, but?—’

‘It’s just a little babysitting. I’ve got this, I promise. I will Disney Princess the crap out of this.’

‘You’re already my knight in shining armour,’ I say, and then I cringe instantly once those horrendously corny words slip out. ‘That sounded much funnier in my head. I swear.’

Shayne snorts and laughs. ‘Oh God. That’s the best you can do? Blame the drugs.’

‘I don’t think they’ve given me anything,’ I confess.

He laughs harder. ‘Erm, maybe blame them anyway.’

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