Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Okay. That’s okay.”
“And vodka,” I added, remembering. I wasn’t sure if that would make a difference. “He’s been drinking vodka.”
“We’re getting ready to leave now. You can ride with him, but you’ll need to give the doctors space when we arrive.”
I nodded, scrambled to my feet.
Somehow, Chrissie had my shoes in her hands. She put them in mine. “I’ll follow in a taxi.”
I considered protesting, telling her I’d be fine…but I wasn’t fine. Fine was a giant lie. I didn’t know if I’d ever be fine again. “Thank you.”
There wasn’t a seat to be had in the A&E waiting room, not that I’d have been able to sit anyway. I paced back and forth in front of the vending machines, glancing every so often towards the double doors that separated me from Hugo. I’d been here an hour. I’d seen a kid throw up before curling under their mother’s arm, a man with a nail in his hand drip a blood trail across the floor, and a woman who, from the outside, appeared perfectly fine enter and exit triage three times and I still hadn’t heard a word about Hugo. He was nothing special here. He wasn’t Hugo Hayes: Megastar. He was just another life that needed saving, and I another angst-ridden loved one.
He’d woken briefly in the ambulance, but the joy that brought was short lived. He didn’t seem to recognise me or know what was happening. He panicked, yelled, fought the straps that held him safely to the trolley. He’d seemed so angry. It ripped my heart wide open.
Now, in the hospital, I felt so useless, standing there in a damp dress, wrapped in a blanket I’d been given in the ambulance. No one stared, nobody seemed to wonder why I looked that way. Hair dishevelled. Mascara running down my cheeks, no doubt. Everyone in this room had bad stuff going on, looked their own type of shit. We were familiar strangers, silent comrades, all here for the same reasons. Help. News. Bodies were broken. Hearts ached. I wondered idly if we’d all make it out healed…
“Hey.”
I gasped at the sound of a voice in my ear, cried at the feel of Chrissie’s arm around my back.
“Any news?”
I shook my head, then nodded it to acknowledge Liam’s presence.
“Best not to discuss it out here anyway,” Liam said, side-eying the cluster of patients and relatives hogging all the waiting chairs. The thought of someone eavesdropping wouldn’t have crossed my mind until he’d said it, but of course there’d be a sick fuck desperate enough to try and cash a quick buck off Hugo’s suffering. There always was. I’d have felt angry about it if I had any emotion to spare.
“It took me a while to find some stuff for you to change into.” Chrissie held up a Louis Vuitton tote. “Found a jumper and some of your jeans in a washing basket in one of the six hundred bathrooms. No knickers. Sorry.”
“Thanks.” Dirty clothes were the least of my problems. “Your phone’s in there, too. Also, Drew and whatshisname - the Italian bloke, are on the way, and…there are like a million photographers outside.”
I laughed in a way that wasn’t funny at all. “Fucking parasites.”
“They’ve got security on the door, though. Don’t worry. No one’s getting in here.”
“I’m not worried about that.” I’d sounded snippy. I apologised with a look. Talking was too much of an effort.
“Look,” Liam said, tipping his chin toward the double doors that I’d forgotten to check for at least thirty seconds. “Someone’s coming.”
A guy who looked too young to be in the blue scrubs he wore approached me with the same kind smile as the ambulance people. Maybe that was part of their training, how to move their lips that way. “You came in with Mr Hayes, yes?”
“How is he?” I rushed out.
His smile offered me nothing but irritation. If he’d told me how great I was doing, I might have just punched him in the damn face. “Let’s go to another room.”
My heart sank all over again as he led me away. It seemed to take an hour to reach the private side room a few steps around the corner. Chrissie followed and, inside the small room, she took my hand.
“My name is Doctor Chowdhury by the way. Would you like a seat?” he offered.
“No.” I expelled the tiny word with my last breath, lungs freezing while I steeled myself for bad news. Why else had he brought me here, if not to offer privacy while I crumbled to the floor in devastation?
“Okay. Mr Hayes is awake and resting. We’re going to transfer him to-”
“He is?” My hands flew up to my mouth, clamped tight. I needed the pressure to keep the scream in my body. “Oh my…thank you,” I said, couldn’t stop nodding. “Can I see him?”