Page 79 of Revive
If anyone else had said it, he wasn’t sure it would’ve got through, but Ginny… Ginny somehow managed to make him smile, even though he was barely holding the pieces of himself together.
Luthor was similarly unhappy and cursing.
“I shouldn’t have left her.”
“Yeah, well, lesson learned,” she muttered. “Fucking up is normally the best teacher. Isn’t that right, Mr Gore?”
“Right? What, here?” Ash yelped, obviously struggling over the noise of two conversations and the sat nav bleating strings of incomprehensible instructions regarding turns and yards.
“No, keep going straight. The hospital’s just ahead.”
The entrance appeared before them.
“How the fuck am I supposed to get the fuck off this island?” Luthor yelled through the car speakers.
“You don’t know what I did to her,” Spook said to Ginny.
“I bet she enjoyed it, whatever it was. Spook, fucking hold it together. Luthor, I’m hanging up a minute. Ash, pull over.” Ginny waved them towards the kerb. “There’s no point in looking for a space. You need to go back and help Luthor.”
“Gin?”
“Stop here. Now. Don’t bloody argue.”
Ash did as she asked, resulting in the person in the car behind them leaning on their horn.
Spook got out.
“Penfold,” Ash said.
Ginny leaned over and kissed him. “Go help Luthor. I can take care of Spook. Promise.” She followed Spook out of the car, pausing only to flash the driver of the other vehicle her middle finger.
Thanks, but he didn’t need babysitting.
Spook sprinted straight for the hospital entrance, only to wind up staring in bewilderment at the array of signs. Ginny looped her arm around his and dragged him over to the reception desk.
“His girlfriend’s been brought here via air ambulance.”
They were directed to somewhere else, where they had the same conversation over again. Spook let the noise wash over him, joining in only when Ginny prompted him to answer something she couldn’t. He just wanted to see Alle and to know she was all right.
“Is she all right?” That’s all he seemed capable of saying, and no one seemed to have an answer. Every time, though, Ginny reassured him and insisted it wasn’t his fault. You couldn’t fault the woman’s cheerleading ability.
“She’ll be okay, Spook. She will. You can still feel her in here, right?” She pressed their combined fists to his chest right over his breastbone. “She needs you, so don’t you give up on her, or yourself. You’re going to go home and live happily ever after, just like me and Ash.”
“Maybe,” he agreed meekly. While he didn’t precisely believe that, Ginny was a difficult woman to argue with.
Eventually, they landed in a small aseptic waiting area, where Ginny plied him with coffee, and which he drank without tasting it. She also pulled tissues and a hairbrush from her bag and set about tidying him. Apparently, he was smeared with dirt, and birds were contemplating nesting in his hair. Honestly, what did it matter, but it was easier to let her do her thing than summon the energy to resist.
“And fuck your hands are a mess. What did you do?”
He glanced down at them, vaguely aware of having skinned them on that treacherous slope. They were a mess of dried blood and dirt. His inner arms were a mess too, but that wasn’t the fault of the fall. He tugged his sleeves down over them.
Ginny dove into her bag again and produced a pack of make-up wipes that stung like hell when they contacted his palms and made not just his hands but his whole arms itch.
“They probably need dressings, or at least some antiseptic on them.”
He was frankly astonished she didn’t produce those from her Mary Poppins bag too.
“They’ll be fine.”
