Page 52 of Still Falling for You

I’m ready to jump in, but she’s quicker.

‘But you could pop to the house tomorrow and bring me a few things to cheer things up around here, maybe a chair cushion so these plastic contraptions are a degree more comfortable.’ I don’t realise I’m shaking my head in disbelief until I get a crick in my neck. Not even a hospital can tame my mother’s spirit.

When I’m about to leave, I finally find it in myself to grip my dad’s hand. I study my small hand wrapped around his.They’re the same shape despite my dad’s hand being bigger and hairier.

‘Don’t be angry with him on my behalf,’ my mother pleads.

I only nod because no matter what, we still have a difficult conversation ahead of us. I lean to kiss her cheek, and she squeezes my shoulder as I let go. I leave her among the beeping machines.

When I walk along the corridor back to the reception, I dial Catherine’s number. As soon as she picks up, she says, ‘Lydia is here with me on the speakerphone.’ Her voice is loaded with questions, but neither she nor Lydia says a word, waiting for me to speak.

‘He’s going to be OK.’ I start crying again, but I’m not sure why. Is it relief? Residual anger release? Who knows. But now the dam has been broken, I cannot seem to stop.

‘Oh, Hols,’ Lydia whispers.

‘We love you,’ Catherine chimes.

‘I wish I was there right now because I would give you one of those god-awful squeeze-the-life-out-of-you kind of hugs that you hate so much,’ Lydia announces solemnly, and I cry-laugh. I love my friends so much.

I retell everything that has happened, getting a lift, my dad being stable and finish on my conversation with my mother. They both listen patiently, not interrupting once. That makes me think of Vicky who surely by now would have been on her fourth or fifth interruption. I make a mental note to message her later because I don’t feel like I have enough energy for that task right now. It passes fleetingly through my mind that it’s not precisely healthy to be mentally fortifying myself to tell a friend my dad is in hospital, but not all friends can be Lydia and Catherine.

‘Do you need anything, Hols? I’ve only had a small glass of wine, so I’m good to give you a lift wherever you need. We can swing by your mum’s if she needs anything. I bet she’s itchingfor her make-up bag by now,’ Lydia says in a business-like manner. I love her for all her practicality and non-judgment. My mother is my mother after all and my dad having a heart attack is not going to change her.

I hear a person pulling themselves to their feet and gathering their stuff on the other end of the line like they’re ready to leave.

‘I might need a lift home if you don’t mind. I’d take a taxi, but I doubt there’s enough money in my bank account to buy a loaf of bread and a tin of baked beans. I can take the bus to school tomorrow and get my car.’

Apart from a few nurses rushing past me in the opposite direction, the corridor is almost empty, my booted feet making squeaky sounds as they peel off the rubber flooring. I see the reception from a distance; a few potted palm trees that I missed are brightening the space that otherwise looks like the inside of a busy train station with all the stairs and blue railings.

I abruptly stop, and an older couple bump into me as they pass. I apologise, but my eyes are trained on the figure just outside the automatic doors. ‘Alex.’

‘Should I head out?’ Lydia asks, the jingle of keys being picked up sounding in the background. Then the line goes silent. ‘Come again?’

I hide behind the closest potted plant and nearly poke myself in the eye. ‘He’s still here,’ I say urgently into the phone. I don’t know why I’m whispering, but I can’t stop myself. A middle-aged man dressed in a hospital-issue dressing gown sitting on the nearest bench gives me a funny look, but I ignore him and continue hiding.

I shouldn’t have worried about Alex spotting me because he’s pacing up and down the front entrance and talking to someone on the phone. My heart makes a strange leap at the thought of him waiting all this time, like when you jump but realise there isn’t any solid ground to land on.

Whoever he’s talking to is making him frown. He hangs upand rubs his face, combing through his fiery hair.

‘Did Alex give you a lift?’ Catherine’s voice comes out uneven.

‘That school of yours is truly devoted to their staff,’ Lydia observes. I detect a trace of amusement in her voice.

‘Didn’t I say Alex was the one to drive me here?’ I ask with confusion.

‘No, you only said yougot a lift,’ Lydia offers pointedly.

I tell them about how he delivered the message, and then, after feeding me, gave me a lift.

Silence follows.

‘Hello?’ I check the line but nothing.

‘How long have you been in the hospital?’ Catherine finally asks.

I check my watch; it’s five past four. ‘An hour and a half,’ I answer uncertainly.

‘He surely was an arsehole ten years ago, but he’s turned out OK. It’s understandable you’re still into him,’ Lydia remarks dryly.

---