Page 113 of The Wedding Pact
Tomorrow. It was time to tell Mrs Haverley, so she’d let the dust settle and tomorrow she’d ask Abe if Mrs H was well enough to hear the news, and then she and Flynn would go together.
She accepted it now: she was the villain here. Because of her own blinkered goals. Not Mrs Haverley for only wanting to rent to a married couple, not the other neighbours for nearly unearthing her secret, not Poppy for seeming to threaten to blow their cover, but her. August. She’d concocted a life of lies to people she truly liked and respected all to fulfil her own needs. She was the villain in her own story. Whatever happened now, there would be no more lies.
Chapter 85
Flynn
August and Flynn awoke at the same time in the middle of the night, sometime during the dark hours between Sunday and Monday, August upon hearing voices in the corridor outside the apartment, Flynn from the blue lights that flashed repetitively on the street outside, illuminating his walls through the curtains.
They both came to their bedroom doors, their eyes meeting.
‘What’s happening out there?’ August asked Flynn, her voice scratchy from interrupted snores, one bed sock lost somewhere during a dream. She looked perfect.
Flynn moved to the living room and looked down, where the unmistakeable luminous yellow form of an ambulance was parked outside their home, its lights silently rotating. ‘There’s an ambulance here,’ he explained, though it didn’t offer much of an explanation.
August unlocked and opened their front door and stepped out, reaching the bannister and craning her neck up, following the sound of the voices.
Callie’s face appeared from the floor above, also looking upwards, and August called, ‘Callie? What’s going on? Is it Mrs Haverley?’
Callie looked down, revealing two large, charcoal, mask strips pasted to her under-eyes. ‘It must be,’ she replied, and looked back up.
Flynn appeared next to her, having covered up his bare torso with a sweatshirt. ‘I’ll go up and see if I can do anything. Maybe she’ll need a bag packed or something if they’re taking her to hospital.’
‘No, I should go,’ August began to protest, putting her hand on his chest, when she spotted Abe on the top landing. ‘Abe!’ she called.
He looked down, nodding at Callie, his worry lines softening just a touch at seeing August’s face. ‘Hi, August. Hello, Flynn.’
‘What’s going on? Is your mum okay?’
‘Um,’ he looked back towards his flat and there was the sound of footsteps and shuffling. ‘Not really. She’s got to go to hospital.’ With that, a stretcher emerged and two paramedics began descending the stairs with ever such a lot of care.
August gasped; though she and Flynn only caught a glance of Mrs Haverley’s face, it was long enough to notice that her eyes were closed, her mouth covered with an oxygen mask, the skin on her forehead smooth and unwrinkled.
Abe followed the stretcher down the staircase, distracted with worry, and didn’t look back at August or any of the other residents.
When the door closed behind them all, Flynn gently led August back into the flat, where she stood in the darkened living room, her hands to her mouth.
‘August?’ he pressed. ‘She’s going to be all right, she’s with the best people now.’
‘She just looked so small,’ August choked, and tears over-spilled. ‘I didn’t realise she’d got so much worse. She looked just like my grandma.’
Flynn held her, not being able to give answers, but just to be there for her.
Flynn slept crumpled on their small sofa with August in his arms, not closing his eyes until she’d finally dropped off. She’d twitched and murmured in her sleep (more than usual), and when she woke up she looked at him through tired, worried eyes.
‘I was dreaming of my gran,’ she explained, not bothering to untangle herself from Flynn. ‘She was laughing with Mrs H, with their feet in a stream, like in a picture she showed me. And I was floating away from them, like a leaf, and no matter how much I opened my mouth and tried to call, my grandma wouldn’t come and rescue me.’ She rubbed her eyes and looked up at Flynn, her face close, propped up on his chest. ‘Did you stay with me all night?’
‘Of course,’ he replied.
‘Did you sleep?’
‘Enough.’ He lingered for a moment, part of him not wanting to break this moment where she was so close to him that he could have counted her eyelashes. She breathed into him, and he into her, and for a moment he could almost feel their hearts searching for each other in the darkness. Eventually though, Flynn admitted to himself this wasn’t the right time and so he carefully moved her and asked, ‘Can I get you a tea?’
August nodded and reached for her phone. ‘I’ll text Abe to see if he’s okay, and if there’s any news.’
Chapter 86
August
