Chapter 38
Adam
As Hugh’s condition improves, I start taking walks around the hospital corridors. I inspect all the vending machines until I find my favourite, and manage to locate the nicest visitor toilet on the other side of the building. When the boys visit, we walk together. Today, Piotr has come.
‘It’s looking good, Ad.’ He bashes his shoulder against mine as we squeak up the corridor.
‘I know.’ I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. ‘He’ll be going back home soon.’
‘Pfff.’ Piotr puffs his cheeks out and blows a thin stream of air through his teeth. ‘He really had me worried for a second.’
‘Me too.’ I stare at my shoes. ‘It’s never going to be OK, though, is it?’
We reach the vending machine, but Piotr blocks my view of what’s inside, standing directly in front of me. He holds my shoulders. ‘Mate, you can’t think like that. You just can’t.’
‘How can I not?’ My voice cracks, and I swipe at my eyes. ‘He’s a ticking time bomb.’
‘A ticking time bomb in the gentlest, most knowledgeable hands.’ Piotr looks at me intently. ‘Ad. I can’t tell you it’s all going to be OK for ever and ever. But nobody is OK for ever and ever. We’ve got over this hurdle, let’s cross the next one when we come to it.’
I nod. ‘Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.’
We wrestle with the vending machine, Piotr’s crisps getting jammed against the glass, and then begin to make our way back to Hugh’s ward. We’re halfway up the corridor when a familiar face rounds the corner.
‘Becky!’ I call, waving her over.
‘Hey.’ She gives me a small smile.
‘How are you?’ I ask as we begin walking together.
‘Good. How’s Hugh?’
‘He’s better every day. Thanks for visiting.’
She nods.
We get into Hugh’s room, and he lights up when he sees Becky, his arms flying out, a huge grin plastered across his face.
‘Hey!’ She laughs and takes his hand. ‘Look at you.’
Piotr turns to me. ‘I’m going to head off. I’ll be back tomorrow if he’s still in.’
‘Alright. Thanks, mate.’ We hug, and he squeezes me hard.
‘One thing at a time, right?’
I smile. ‘One thing at a time.’
Once Piotr’s gone, I pull up a chair on the other side of the bed. Becky turns to me.
‘I spoke to the therapists about Hugh’s mood,’ she says. ‘I didn’t get a chance to tell you the other day.’
‘Oh.’ I’d put Hugh’s despondency down to a brewing illness. ‘What did they say?’
‘You won’t believe it.’ Her mouth twitches. ‘It’s Moana .’
‘Eh?’ I look at Hugh, who has tossed Hei Hei down the side of the bed, all but forgotten. ‘What do you mean, it’s Moana ?’
‘He’s bored of it. It frustrates him.’ She shrugs, smiling. ‘He’s ready for something new.’
I laugh, surprising myself. It’s so simple — so innocuous — that it’s funny. A relief. ‘How do they know?’
‘Apparently it happens a lot. Poor communication skills mean it’s not always easy to know what someone with CP wants, even if they’re really vocal about being unhappy. He’s been trying to tell us that he’s sick of that bloody film, but we haven’t been listening.’ She grins.
I throw my head back, laughing louder than I have done in a long time. Hugh shrieks delightedly. ‘Oh my god. Moana .’
Becky joins in, her contagious laugh filling the small room. ‘They put a different film on and he was a changed man, apparently.’
‘Christ.’ I wipe tears from my eyes.
Our laughter dies down, and the room goes quiet. Becky studies her fingernails.
‘Thank you,’ I say, turning to her.
She frowns. ‘For what?’
‘For looking after him. For caring for him. I’m sorry about the accusations. I... Hugh wasn’t treated very well at his last place. It’s a bit of a sore point.’
She stares at her lap. ‘I get that. I’m sorry I was so unprofessional about it.’
‘It’s alright.’ I shrug. ‘I guess this isn’t a straightforward job, is it? There are feelings involved.’
‘Yeah.’ Her eyes meet mine, and she looks away.
‘And I’m sorry about... you know. Us. What happened,’ I carry on, feeling like I want everything cleared up and put behind us.
She nods and looks at me sadly. ‘Shit happens, doesn’t it?’
‘I suppose it does.’
* * *
When I get home, Old Sausage is sitting on the patio. I throw my backpack onto the sofa, all thoughts of an afternoon doing Okie’s university application forms evaporating, and slowly open the back door.
He pads into the kitchen tentatively, sniffing at the air. ‘Hey,’ I say.
Old Sausage meows.
I reach into the fridge and grab a piece of steak from a tub of leftover stew. I place it down in front of him and he inspects it, before picking it up and starting to chew.
I pull out my phone.
Me: Got OS in my kitchen! I’ll take him to the vet now.
I wait a minute or two, but Eve doesn’t reply.
I let Old Sausage finish chewing — which takes an unsurprisingly long time, considering his lack of teeth and my unwillingness to fork out on good stewing steak — and then pick him up gingerly.
He allows it, and surveys the room from his elevated position. ‘Shall we go and get you checked over?’ I ask him.
I step out into the garden, looking across at Eve’s house. The back door is open; she must be home. Maybe she’d want to come. I feel my heart rate accelerate a little at the thought. I could go down and ask her, let myself in through the back gate and pop my head in. Would that be weird?
Since she was here, it’s felt like something has shifted inside me. I’ve thought about Katie less and less, and when I do, it’s while I’m on the phone to the bank, trying to sort the mortgage. My in-branch meeting the other day went badly; our original mortgage was given to us on the basis of our combined salaries as employees of the local school. Now that it’s just me, and I’m self-employed, my options have been reduced.
I pull out my phone. She still hasn’t replied.
‘Looks like it’s just you and me, pal,’ I say to Old Sausage, scratching him under his chin.
He gazes at me steadily, and then, like a ninja, he jerks his body around 180° and flips out of my arms, landing on all fours on the patio.
‘Hey!’ I cry, but he’s running, leaping up onto the fence and throwing himself onto next door’s lawn. He scales the next fence, and walks along it precariously, until he’s next to Eve’s garden. He gives me one last look, and then jumps down and slinks through the open back door.
I don’t think. I unlock the back gate, and run up the alleyway.