Chapter 49
ALICE
I pry my eyes open, my phone vibrating loudly on the bookshelf. Around me, the detritus of last night remains all over the floor.
I scramble up, feet sliding across the paper carpeting the floor.
‘Spence?’ I ask, but then glance at the screen. ‘Giuditta?’ Disappointment edges my voice.
‘Darling!’
My stomach flips.
‘Where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling! I love it!’ A warm rush of relief flows through me, quickly followed by unease as my eyes land on the Post-its, the patterns etched out across the floor. My thoughts about my feelings for Spence still ringing in my ears.
‘I…’ I swallow, sinking onto the sofa. I press the phone to my ear, trying to steady my breathing. ‘I’m so glad.’
‘That article is just everything! And Michael, Kate, the whole ships passing in the night… Just glorious.’
‘Thank you. So, you’ll run it?’
‘Darling, I’m going to do more than run it.
You’re back! It’s a different you, so I’m thinking a total rebrand.
I’ve already pitched it in our morning meeting and the whole team is super excited.
We bring you back, we reshape the narrative.
A whole new column, long-lost loves, finding family…
Our readership is changing, darling. They want nostalgia, they want hope.
Podcasts are leading the way with current affairs, but this?
This will have them desperate to follow.
The article is outstanding, but we can stagger it.
Each week, a new instalment. It will be our lead in the Sunday sup.
And your byline will run at the top, front and centre.
There will be no mistaking this is your piece. ’
My hands are shaking, blood rushing in my ears.
‘It’s a new opportunity to spread your wings. You can’t have your old desk back but there’s one with a gorgeous view and…’ I lean back, my head resting against the cushions as she continues.
‘And then we can talk salary. So, darling, how soon do you think you can come back, hmmm? I was thinking next month officially but if you pop in? I can’t tell you how excited we all are!’
‘I… This is amazing.’ My voice cracks. ‘I wasn’t expecting all this…
’ I lick my bottom lip. This is everything I’ve strived for.
The type of journalist I wanted to be, but on my terms. I get to research the past, focus on love stories, stories with heart.
The past and the present. ‘I was expecting a short one-off supplement…’
‘Darling, forget I even suggested that. I don’t know what I was thinking, with your talent…’
She continues talking, but as my eyes focus on the photos surrounding me, it’s like I’m being pulled in two directions.
Half of me yearning to speak to Spence, wanting to tell him, wanting him to tell me he feels the same.
The other half pulling me back to the joy of a successful career. Back to my old life.
‘Let me know when you can come in, hmmm? Tomorrow? No, Davy! Christ alive. I said the right…’ She cuts off and I’m sat with my phone in my hands. My finger traces the edge of Spence’s face in the photo next to me. The feelings surge again. This time, I’m sure.
I’m in love with him.
I’ve waited long enough.
* * *
Freshly showered, freshly terrified, I knock on the front door. My heart is in my throat as footsteps head towards me. I take a breath. I have no idea how I’m going to navigate this conversation.
‘Hi!’ my voice comes out before I can register that it’s not Spence at the door.
‘Alice! Hi!’ Heather smiles up at me. Her feet bare, a tea towel in her hands. ‘Come in, come in…’ My throat tightens as she gestures me in, as though I’m a visitor, as though I didn’t help lay the floor that she’s standing on.
‘Spence has just popped out to the post office; he’ll be back in a bit. Coffee?’ she asks, gesturing for me to follow her through. She opens the correct cupboard without hesitation. ‘Just a second,’ she adds, smiling.
‘George! Lunch is ready!’
I pull out a chair and sit down, fingers tracing the knots in the wood.
‘Hey, button,’ I say, brightening when Georgia comes in. She’s still in her pyjamas, curly hair not yet tamed.
‘Hi. Um… where’s Dad?’ she asks Heather, eyes quickly glancing at me.
Heather hands her a plate, a wholemeal roll, bunch of grapes and some crisps. ‘Just popped out, he’ll be back in a bit.’
Georgia takes it with a thanks, smiling. She throws an awkward glance back in my direction, acknowledging how weird this all feels.
‘Don’t forget your juice,’ Heather adds, handing her a bottle of something purple.
‘So… how’s things going?’ she asks, joining me, placing a coffee on the table.
‘Good.’
‘And work is going well?’
I bite down the instinct to tell her about the job offer. I need to speak to Spence about that first.
‘Yep.’
‘Spence has told me all about the letters and Mick?’
‘Mike.’
‘Mike. That’s right.’ She pulls down the cuffs of her white blouse.
‘He’ll be back soon,’ she repeats. She’s nervous. I take in the way she’s looking around, the healthy lunch. Spence is right. She’s trying.
‘I imagine this must be strange. Me. Being here?’ Her voice is gentle, slightly shaky.
‘A bit,’ I say honestly.
She nods, finger tapping against her cup. ‘Alice?’
‘Hmm?’
‘I want to thank you.’ She lets out a long breath. ‘I know how much a part of Georgia’s life you’ve been, after I… well…’
‘Ran off and left them?’ I prompt, but I add a smile to soften my meaning. She presses her lips together.
‘Well. Yes.’
‘You don’t have to thank me. She’s a great kid.’
‘Isn’t she?’ Her eyes light up. ‘I know that I can’t take any credit whatsoever, but—’ she lets out a long gasp of air ‘—she really is special, isn’t she?’
Something softens inside as she pulls her cuffs down again. ‘So clever and funny… And her laugh?’ The corners of her mouth crinkle. ‘It just kills me.’
‘She gets it from Spence.’
‘Really? He says she gets that from you.’
We’re quiet, just the sound of the TV coming from Georgia’s room.
‘Would you like something to eat?’ She gets up before I have chance to answer. ‘I bought these from the deli down the road… and I have some fresh ham, tomatoes?’
‘I’m fine. But thanks though,’ I add, seeing the way she’s wringing her hands together.
She’s really trying, and he’s right, she’s not the same stuck-up popular girl she once was.
‘Actually, yeah… that would be great.’ I stand and make my way over, reaching for the butter. My eyes land on the brown paper bag.
‘Where did you say you got these from?’
‘Oh, Smiths – it’s all organic, vegan…’ She trails off. Vegan. My heart starts hammering in my ears as I pull the bag towards me, eyes scanning the ingredients.
I bolt from the room. ‘Georgia!’ I shout, taking the stairs two at a time.
‘Alice? What’s wrong?’ Heather races after me.
‘Vegan foods often use a nut milk substitute in the—’
I throw the door open. Georgia’s on the floor, the plate next to her.
‘It’s OK, honey, just hold on.’
‘I can’t breathe…’ Her hands are pulling at her throat.
‘Heather! EpiPen!’
‘I-I checked, they said—’
‘Top drawer!’ I nod towards the bedside cabinet while pulling Georgia against me. ‘You’re OK, you’re OK…’ I stroke her hair while Heather starts opening and closing drawers.
‘It’s not there!’
‘Bathroom cabinet! And call an ambulance.’
Heather’s face is white. ‘Which first?’
‘Pen! Then call…’
Georgia’s breathing is becoming shallow.
She rushes back in, handing me the EpiPen. I pull off the lid with my teeth, slamming the needle into the top of her leg. ‘Ambulance, Heather.’
‘I…’ She’s frozen. I shift Georgia into the recovery position and dial 999.
‘Anaphylactic shock. Nut allergy. Thirteen years old. EpiPen.’ The words come out calmer than I feel. Georgia’s breathing is starting to stabilise, but she’s still struggling.
‘Call Spence,’ I say. ‘Heather!’ I snap her out of her trance.
‘Yes… I’ll…’ She leaves the room as I stroke Georgia’s hair. ‘I’m here. You’re going to be fine. Everything’s going to be OK. You’re alright.’
Heather’s voice is high-pitched as she comes in. ‘He’s not answering! What can I do? I…’
‘Just keep trying him.’
‘I didn’t know, I…’
‘I know.’ My voice softens.
Georgia’s eyes are on me, her hand clutching mine.
It feels like hours before the ambulance arrives. Heather lets them in and I move back as the paramedics put an oxygen mask on Georgia, firing questions at me.
‘Mum? How long since she had the food?’ The tall paramedic looks at me, with kind blue eyes.
‘About ten minutes?’ Heather replies. The paramedic’s eyes recalibrate, switching his focus to Heather.
‘She’s stable, but we need to get her to the hospital.’
Outside, Georgia is helped into the ambulance, oxygen mask still firmly over her mouth. Her eyes trying to find mine. I’m about to get in but then take in the way the paramedic is speaking to Heather. I take a step back, letting her climb in.
‘Alice?’ she asks slightly panicked.
‘I’ll follow you in the car and try Spence again.’
‘But—’
Her eyes are wide as they close the doors, the siren sounding as they drive away.
All the adrenaline rushes through my body, and I bend over, hands gripping my knees. If I hadn’t been there, if I hadn’t… I take a ragged breath and pull myself straight.
My hands grip my phone as I unlock the car, dialling Spence, but it goes to voicemail.
‘Spence, it’s me. Georgia’s had a reaction. She’s going to be OK, but you need to get to the hospital. I’m on my way. I’ll keep trying you…’
I turn the ignition and pull out onto the road, following the ambulance as closely as I can.
At the hospital, I park and rush over as Georgia is wheeled out, Heather by her side as they go through the ambulance bay doors. A nurse stands to the side, placing a gentle but firm hand on my arm.
‘Family only beyond this point.’
Family.
Not me, the woman who rocked her to sleep when she had colic; who stood clapping the loudest when she delivered her one line for class assembly that I’d helped her practise… Family only. My stomach twists.
I swallow, mouth opening.
‘She’s in the best hands. We’ll take her to the resuscitation bay, but you can go into the waiting area.’
‘But I—’ I stammer, but he’s already following the paramedics, the door hissing closed behind him.
I try Spence again, then follow the sign pointing to A&E, finding a seat. The room is packed. Filled with coughs, mumbles, over-warm, over-filled, overwhelming.
The blue plastic seat is uncomfortable beneath me, but I barely register it. Time ticks on, my mind replaying everything over again. Did I deliver the whole dose? Did I get to her on time?
The glass door whooshes open and Spence rushes in, hair on end, eyes frantically searching the room. It only takes moments and I’m in his arms. He pulls back, hands on the top of my arms, eyes searching mine.
‘Is she OK? Where is she?’
‘She’s… I gave her a shot, but she… They wouldn’t let me in. Heather is with her.’ Spence grabs my hand, ignores the calls of annoyance as he walks to the front of the glass screen, explaining.
The nurse behind the glass presses the door release button. ‘It’s family only,’ he says.
‘She is family,’ Spence snaps, tightening his grip on my hand as we walk through.