Chapter Thirty Two
The revolving doors spat me out of the hospital foyer and into the growing dusk of late afternoon. I headed straight for the taxi rank, where I gave the first cab in line the address of my workshop so I could collect Raegan’s car. It felt strange driving the unfamiliar vehicle, parking in Raegan’s busy street, and then letting myself in to her maisonette, as though I was walking in a pair of shoes that didn’t belong to me. Of course, I’d been inside their home countless times, but never without Raegan or Polly. I fumbled clumsily on the wrong side of the hallway for the light switch and hit my hip on a table I’d forgotten was there as I walked down the half-lit passageway to the small kitchen. I threw a longing glance in the direction of the kettle but made no move to fill it. I didn’t want to waste a single moment getting back to Raegan. I knew only too well how lonely hospital bedside vigils could be. And my conversation with the nurse who’d escorted me back to the waiting room was still fresh in my mind.
‘Are other family members on the way?’ she’d asked, looking a little uncomfortable, as though she wasn’t one hundred per cent sure she was allowed to ask that question. ‘It’s just so we know if we should be looking out for them, ’ she added in a murmur.
I’d known what she was asking me. But Raegan, who had almost zero filter and would talk about virtually anything, had never once spoken about Polly’s father, other than to say he wasn’t the kind of man to be anyone’s parent. The first time she’d said that my thoughts had gone straight to Josh and his troubled background, and they did again today.
‘No. There’s no one else. It’s just the two of them. Raegan’s family all live near Scotland.’
And there was Josh again, front and centre in my thoughts. I shook my head as though to reposition him back in the box where I was trying to keep him contained.
There were two egg-stained plates left over from lunch on the kitchen table, beside a half-drunk cup of coffee and a tumbler with a film of milk coating the glass. I rinsed them and left them drying on the draining board. They’d obviously left in a hurry to get to the party, I realised, as I carried a tub of margarine to the fridge and got sidetracked by a collection of new drawings displayed on the door with vegetable-shaped magnets. A carrot one secured a drawing of a rainbow and two figures who looked worryingly like aliens, holding hands. I knew from the magenta-coloured hair of the taller ET they were meant to be Raegan and Polly. Beside it was a Valentine’s Day card Polly must have made in infants’ school, decorated with so much glitter and sequins I was amazed the tomato-shaped magnet could hold it. In the middle of a red crayoned heart was a message in huge letters that I recognised as Polly’s wobbly penmanship.
I love my mummy lots and lots.
For absolutely no reason I felt tears prickling the backs of my eyes.
It’s just a reaction to the emotions of the day , I told myself as I stowed the Flora back in the fridge. But then the wall calendar got to me just as badly. It was the kind you have printed from favourite photographs, and every month showed a precious memory in the life Raegan and Polly had built together. From fish and chips on a seaside beach to pulling silly faces at each other as they blew bubbles into the sky, it was a catalogue showing how strong their family unit was.
Raegan rarely dated, and whenever the subject came up, she always said she’d never met anyone who was good enough to be in Polly’s life. It sounded like a strange excuse to me, and I’d made Adam run through a list of all his single mates to see if there was someone I could introduce her to. I didn’t get it then. However enlightened I thought I was, I still believed that a man would complete their little family. How blind was I not to have realised they already were a perfectly complete family.
As though I’d had blinkers on, I looked at everything differently now as I climbed the stairs to retrieve the items Raegan had asked me to bring to the hospital. There were hooks on the back of the bathroom door, one up high and one down at Polly level, where their dressing gowns hung. The toothbrush holder held a Barbie model, which I scooped up along with a more utilitarian one. The absence of a third brush or hook didn’t matter one little bit. In fact, there probably wasn’t even room for another dressing gown on that door, and for the first time I got it. I truly did. And the revelation was so huge it made me gasp and caused my hand to tremble as I reached for Murphy, Polly’s beloved bedtime teddy, who was propped up on her pillow, patiently waiting for her.
I dropped Polly’s rainbow pyjamas as well as a set of clean clothes for both her and Raegan into a bag, but for some reason I hung on to Murphy. Before leaving the bedroom, I brought the bear to my face and inhaled deeply, the way I’d once caught Raegan doing when she was making Polly’s bed. It was of the few times I’d ever seen my friend blush.
‘It just smells of her. It’s my favourite smell in the entire world,’ she’d said, embarrassed, almost challenging me to laugh at her. I hadn’t then and I certainly didn’t do so now.
Theirs was a true love story; so strong, so powerful, they needed no one else but each other. And suddenly everything cleared in my head because this was what I wanted too. This was my dream, the one that had started with Adam, but still lived on. I didn’t need to find the perfect man to be an ideal husband; I’d already found and then lost that. I also didn’t need a man who made my pulse race and filled my head with thoughts and dreams that could never be, because I’d found and lost that too.
What I needed to complete my life, my world and my future was already there. Waiting for me. And I knew in this moment that I was ready for the next incredible, life-changing stage of my life to begin.
The paediatric ward was already in darkness by the time I returned, even though it was still only early evening. I whispered a request for directions at the nurses’ station and then tiptoed exaggeratedly down the corridor like a bad mime artist.
I didn’t like the swirl of uncertainty churning in my stomach as I approached the curtained bed in the far corner of the bay. Through the closed drapes I could see a soft halo of light from the overhead panel. I took a steadying breath, schooling myself to be ready for anything as I gripped the material and drew the curtains apart.
The first thing I saw was a far more recognisable Polly propped up in bed against a mountain of pillows. The bruise and bandage still drew my attention, but beneath them Polly’s cornflower blue eyes were no longer shut. True, they were ringed with dark circles and heavy-lidded with exhaustion, but they still flickered towards me as I stepped through the opening.
Beside her, Raegan was holding on to her daughter’s hand, with an expression on her face I’d never seen before. I hadn’t known her back then, but I would have bet my bank balance it was the same one she’d worn when they’d placed her newborn infant in her arms five years before.
She looked up, and as our eyes met, no words were necessary. I turned to the little girl who was the centre of her mother’s world, and who I’d realised today was almost as important in mine.
‘Hey, Pickle, how are you doing?’
‘I fell off the stupid bouncy thing, Auntie Lily.’
I pulled up a chair beside the bed and dropped down on to it.
‘I heard about that. Seems like a silly thing to do. Why did you do it?’
‘I fell off,’ she repeated with an exasperated sigh, as though I was the one who’d hit their head. ‘And then they had to do photos of my brains, but they don’t let you take them home with you.’
Trying very hard to suppress my smile, I looked over at Raegan. ‘Everything was fine,’ she mouthed silently. If you looked up ‘relieved’ in a dictionary, beside it would be a picture of my friend’s face right now. ‘They’re keeping her in tonight as a precaution, but we should be able to go home in the morning.’
Raegan gave out a long shaky breath. ‘God, Lily. This parenting lark isn’t for the fainthearted.’
I swallowed a giveaway gulp and hoped the ward was too dark for her to see the sudden flush that had rushed to my cheeks at her words. But fortunately, her focus was only on Polly right now. There’d be time enough to share my decision with her, but for now I was guarding it close, like the secret it still was.
They evicted me from the ward, in the nicest possible way, very soon afterwards. A fold-out sofa chair and blankets had been provided for Raegan beside Polly’s bed, and the best thing I could do was to get out of there and let them both get some sleep.
With Murphy safely tucked away beneath her unbroken arm, Polly was clearly struggling to stay awake.
‘I can come back in the morning, or meet you at your place if you like,’ I volunteered as I gathered up my bag and coat.
‘That’s okay. You’ve done more than enough,’ Raegan said. ‘I phoned Mum and Dad and they’re heading down at first light. They’re going to stay with me for a week or so.’
She reached across and brushed a straying strand of hair from Polly’s cheek. ‘It’ll be lovely to see Grandma and Grandpa, won’t it? They’ll make you feel better.’
Polly, who was definitely more asleep than awake, gave a wistful smile before murmuring softly, ‘So would a puppy.’
Raegan rolled her eyes, but interestingly her usual refusal was replaced with a far more hopeful ‘Let’s see, shall we?’
As I kissed them both goodbye, she whispered, ‘That kid’s got me wrapped around her little finger.’
I was smiling as I walked back to the car park, knowing Raegan wouldn’t have it any other way.
I phoned my parents when I got home, even though I’d only spoken to them two days earlier. Mum cried when I told her my plans, and my father’s voice grew so gruff it was almost indecipherable. Unsurprisingly he blamed it on a cold he was still trying to shake off, but I didn’t believe that for a moment.