Always You and Me

Chapter Thirty One

The smell of buttercream and suspicion was heavy on the air.

‘All I’m saying is that it seems strange that you’ve never mentioned this mountain man friend of yours before, that’s all.’

‘Not really. Like I said, we lost touch, and I hadn’t thought about him in years.’

Raegan remained infuriatingly quiet. That was when I should have changed the subject, instead of digging myself even deeper into a hole already stacked with lies.

‘And there weren’t any mountains,’ I corrected, ‘just a very dense forest.’

‘The forest might be dense, Lily, but I’m not. Something clearly happened while you were away.’

I lowered my piping nozzle, as though surrendering a weapon. My hand was probably too unsteady to finish the cake I was icing anyway. I met Raegan’s gaze, pausing for a moment to marvel at the impressive height her eyebrows had achieved. They were practically in her hairline.

‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’

I tried for nonchalance and missed by a mile.

‘There’s really nothing to tell. I saw an old mate, we caught up, and then I came home.’

‘It’s just you’ve been kind of distracted since you got back.’

I shook my head, refuting her words, even though I knew she was right.

‘I don’t think so.’

Raegan gave a knowing nod. ‘So, you deliberately iced the customer’s surname on the cake instead of what’s written on the order sheet?’

I looked down at the cake with a cry of dismay. She was right.

‘Oh, bugger.’

Raegan reached for the piping nozzle. ‘Give it here, I’ll fix it.’ She gave a twisted smile. ‘And your language is certainly more colourful since you got back. I’m starting to feel like Mother Teresa next to you.’

I remembered all over again why I’d hired Raegan. Even in the darkest of moments she could always make me laugh.

‘I’m guessing the effing and blinding is also down to the Highlands’ answer to Bear Grylls. I wonder what else he taught you while holding you hostage in the forest.’

She was baiting me, but this time I didn’t rise to it.

Of course, Raegan had continued to probe, as I’d known she would. Over mugs of tea and our treasured supply of chocolate Hobnobs, she surprised me by suddenly reaching across the countertop to squeeze my hand. There were at least a dozen silver rings on her fingers, but only one gold band on mine.

‘Just tell me one thing, Lily. Is this renewed friendship something to get excited about?’ There was a hopeful light glinting in her eyes.

I shook my head sadly. ‘No. It was more like closing a door we probably shouldn’t have reopened. If anything, it was like laying an old ghost to rest.’

‘Interesting choice of words,’ Raegan said, and then raised her hands as though warding me off. ‘But I won’t mention it again.’ She took two sips from her mug before breaking her word. ‘It’s a real shame though. I was kind of hoping a fit, bearded, lumberjack type might come charging through those swing doors and sweep you off your feet.’

I snorted inelegantly into my tea but couldn’t stop my eyes from flitting to the double aluminium doors of the kitchen workshop.

‘That’ll never happen,’ I said, drawing a line under the subject.

But I realised my heart had developed an annoying habit of quickening every time my phone received a message, only to plummet in my diaphragm each time it wasn’t Josh. And it never would be, because he was keeping to the agreement we’d made when I left.

Even though my mission to get answers from Josh had basically failed, I couldn’t help wondering if Adam had had another motive in making me seek him out. Had he wanted my visit to do more than just shine a light on the past? Had he hoped it might also illuminate a pathway to the future? Obviously not one with Josh – I couldn’t imagine Adam engineering that in a million years. But perhaps he’d wanted to show me the dreams we’d had together might still be possible.

The phone call that pushed me to change the rest of my life wasn’t even for me. It was for Raegan.

I should have been alone in the Cupcakes and Rainbows workshop because it was mid-afternoon on a Saturday, and Raegan never worked weekends. But Polly had received a last-minute invitation to a birthday party, freeing her mum to come in and help me with a big order for later in the week.

‘If you ask me, Pol’s only been invited because a bunch of kids in her class have come down with the pox.’

‘“Chicken” or “small”?’

Raegan’s tight-lipped expression loosened at that. ‘It kind of pisses me off that they only asked the B-listers yesterday. I wanted to say no, but Polly really wanted to go. Apparently, they’ve hired a bouncy castle to die for.’

‘Not literally, I hope.’

Raegan scoffed. ‘I don’t know this group of mums that well. They’re more the “designer gym kits” and the “let’s do brunch” gang. Whereas I’m more at home with the “let’s go to Costco” crowd.’

‘God, is there really that kind of hierarchy in the infant school playground?’

‘You have no idea,’ Raegan said meaningfully.

It was an arrow straight to my heart, because sadly she was right about that.

‘Am I speaking to Polly’s mum?’ I had no idea who was on the other end of the phone, but whoever it was, they sounded panicked.

‘No. I’m sorry, she’s just popped out for a minute. Can I help?’

There was a pause that went on for several beats too long.

‘Do you have her mobile number?’

‘I do, but . . .’ I glanced across the room and saw Raegan’s fuchsia-pink phone sitting beside her bag. ‘. . . but she hasn’t got it on her at the moment. Can I take a message? She’s literally just popped out for a minute to get something.’

The woman on the other end of the phone relayed this to someone who must have been standing nearby. All I caught was a hurried ‘not there’.

‘Look, I’m a close friend of the family. If Polly’s not well or needs picking up I can—’ I never got to finish my sentence because in the background someone began shouting and I could hear the sound of children crying.

‘None of us has Polly’s mum’s number, you see,’ the voice on the end of the line continued. ‘But then someone remembered she works at this cake place.’

If I’d been standing in front of the caller, I swear I’d be shaking her by the shoulders by now to get the words out of her.

‘Is something wrong? Is there a problem?’ I asked in a voice that didn’t sound like mine at all.

The woman gulped audibly, and my heart began to thump so fiercely it felt capable of cracking a rib or two. Surprisingly my voice was relatively calm as I enunciated in tones that brooked no argument.

‘Please tell me exactly what’s happened, so I can get word to Raegan.’

‘There was an accident on the bouncy castle – well, more of a mishap, really,’ the woman downgraded, which might have been a comfort had it not been for a noise I now heard above the general chaos in the background. It was a siren.

I didn’t remember scribbling down the details across the front of my order book, but I must have done, for the torn-off cover was scrunched up in my hand as I stood waiting for Raegan’s return. I’d already turned everything off and was positioned by the door with my friend’s coat over my arm.

She noticed the darkness of the room first.

‘Did they cut off the electricity again?’ she joked, putting down the four-pint container of milk she’d popped out to buy. ‘They didn’t have any two pints, so I had to get—’

‘Put your coat on, Raegan.’

Her eyes widened, probably because she recognised the tone of my voice. I did too. It was my Adam voice: tight and controlled, and typically reserved for discussing something bad.

‘What’s happened, Lily? You’re scaring the crap out of me.’

I took her hand, more to prevent her from bolting for her car when she heard what I had to say than anything else. There was no way I was allowing her behind the wheel of a vehicle.

‘Someone from the party phoned to let you know there’s been an . . . incident . . . on the bouncy castle. Polly’s had a bit of a tumble and they’ve taken her to St Luke’s to get checked out.’

‘Checked out? What the hell does that mean? What kind of an incident?’

I’d never seen the colour drain from anyone’s face so fast.

‘They think she might have broken her arm.’ It seemed safest to lead with that.

‘Bloody bouncy castles,’ Raegan interjected angrily. ‘I warned her to be careful and stay away from the bigger kids.’

Her rage froze when she realised I wasn’t done yet delivering the bad news.

‘They also said she’d hit her head. That’s why they thought it best to call an ambulance.’

Raegan, my tough-as-nails, ‘take on the world single-handedly’ friend, swayed on her feet like a heroine in a Victorian novel. My arm snapped instantly around her waist. She was trembling so hard I could feel every shudder vibrate through me.

‘Come on, I’ll drive us to the hospital,’ I said, urging her through the door.

‘No. I should go straight to the party. Polly can’t go off in an ambulance all by herself. She’s too little. She’d be terrified.’

There was no easy way to say this, so I just had to put it bluntly.

‘I don’t think she’d know, hon. The woman who phoned said Polly wasn’t properly awake.’ In truth the woman had said Polly had been knocked unconscious by the fall, but I didn’t think Raegan could handle that frightening piece of information just yet.

I drove faster than I should have, almost hoping a police car would pull us over and then escort us to the hospital with sirens blaring. I think I caught the flash of at least two speed cameras on the way, but the fines would be worth it if I reunited Raegan with her daughter even one minute faster.

My friend had been a source of unshakeable support to me in my darkest moments with Adam, and as I sped through the side streets towards the hospital, I only hoped that I could be just as strong for her now that the roles were reversed.

Just let her be all right , I pleaded to a God who hadn’t exactly been listening when I’d begged him to help the man I loved.

Raegan, who was rarely silent, said virtually nothing throughout the twenty-minute journey. Out the corner of my eye I could see the tension thrumming through her, making her legs jiggle so violently that had she been driving, the car would have kangarooed all the way to the hospital.

‘She’ll be alright,’ I assured her. ‘Polly’s a tough cookie. She’s practically made from Teflon. Remember that time when she fell off the swing in the park and grazed her knees really badly and still refused to go home and get cleaned up.’

Turning reluctantly in her seat, as though taking her eyes from the road would somehow slow us down, Raegan spoke in a voice that seemed smaller than it ever had before.

‘They called an ambulance for her, Lily. A bloody ambulance. You don’t do that for something you can slap a plaster on.’

I grappled for a comforting reply, couldn’t find one, so pressed down a little harder on the accelerator.

‘She’s broken her arm and has a head injury,’ Raegan continued with a hitch of a sob. ‘That doesn’t sound like Teflon to me.’

I swept into the hospital grounds like I was qualifying for the F1. I didn’t bother following the signs for the visitor car park, but drove straight up to the main entrance, which I was pretty sure only emergency vehicles were allowed to do. That was probably another fine in the making.

‘Go,’ I said to the already empty seat beside me. ‘I’ll find you when I’ve parked up.’

I left my car in the hospital multistorey, at a weird angle and straddling two bays; that was probably another infringement. Not that I cared. I’d happily cough up a fortune in penalties today if it meant that Polly was alright.

I ran recklessly down the concrete car park stairs to the ground floor, too impatient to wait for the lift to reach me. The clatter of my boots echoed noisily in the stairwell, but the thundering of my heart was louder. I didn’t know the layout of this particular hospital. It wasn’t one where Adam had ever been treated, but I knew better than to join the long queue of people waiting to be seen at the reception desk.

The Accident and Emergency department was well signposted, so I sprinted down corridors, slaloming past patients in wheelchairs and hospital beds, as though I was on an assault course. Miraculously, I didn’t send any of them flying. I burst through the doors into A&E, scarlet-faced and out of breath, looking more in need of oxygen than half the waiting room.

I scoured the rows of chairs but couldn’t see Raegan anywhere. I hurried to the desk, raising my voice as though I didn’t trust the Perspex screen not to muffle my words.

‘My friend’s little girl has just been brought in by ambulance. Polly Taylor. Her mum Raegan should be here somewhere.’

Before the receptionist could reach for her keyboard, a young nurse standing behind her put down the pile of folders she was carrying and gave me a sympathetic smile. The woman was a stranger, but I knew that smile and it did little to stop the jackhammer percussion of my heart.

‘I just took your friend to her little girl. The doctors are with them now, but I can take you to them . . . if you like.’

I practically vaulted over the desk to get to her, which effectively answered that question.

‘How is she? Polly, I mean.’

The nurse either didn’t know or was too skilled at hiding worrying information from friends and family. I’d been on the receiving end of both alternatives too many times to count.

‘It’s the doctors you need to speak to.’ She broke protocol for a moment to lay a comforting hand on my arm. ‘But she’s in the best of hands. The paediatric staff here are amazing.’

Unexpected kindness had always had the power to take me down when Adam was sick, and it seemed it still could. I nodded and fought to gain greater control of my trembling lower lip before we walked through the next set of double doors. I would be no use to Raegan if I couldn’t put a clamp on my own emotions and stop thinking that hospitals were places where only bad news was delivered.

We walked swiftly past a row of curtained cubicles. There were ominous moans and groans coming from a couple of them, but muted voices from the one at the end of the line.

‘It looks like the doctors are still with her,’ the nurse said, bringing us to a halt in front of a nearby row of seats. ‘If you wait out here, you’ll be able to see your friend as soon as they’ve finished.’

As much as I wanted to insist that I join the crowd of medics in the cubicle, I did as I was instructed, perching on the very edge of the hard plastic chair so I was ready to leap to my feet at the first twitch of those curtains.

Infuriatingly, the voices in the cubicle were all softly spoken and muted, and although I could make out that several people were talking, nothing was clear enough to decipher. Instead, I counted the feet visible beneath the bottom of the curtain, trying to decide if the alarming number of medics attending to one little girl was a good or a bad thing.

I was still undecided when the curtains parted with a parrot-like screech of rings on metal. Four white-coated people strode past me, leaving just Raegan and a nurse standing beside a bed that held a version of Polly I’d never seen before.

Polly was a live wire, never still, not even in sleep. I’d babysat her enough times to know that. So, seeing her pale and immobile in the too-big hospital bed, where she looked like little more than a ruck in the blankets, was a real shock. There was a bandage encircling her head, beneath which I could see one hell of a bump, and an ugly purple bruise that went from temple to cheekbone. Her left arm had been splinted but wasn’t yet in a cast. My eyes went to her tiny chest, relieved to see its steady rise and fall. But her eyelids were closed, with blue spidery veins visible on the fragile skin that I could swear hadn’t been there before.

‘How is she?’ I whispered.

‘She opened her eyes for a moment when I got here,’ Raegan said.

It took me a second or two to organise my features so they reflected a more positive reaction. ‘That’s good. That’s very good.’

I think we both knew it really wasn’t.

‘Did she say anything?’

It took two hard swallows before Raegan managed to get out her reply.

‘She sounded confused.’ Raegan was biting her lip so hard she was leaving white indents on the tender skin. ‘I don’t know if she knew it was me, Lily. She seemed out of it.’

‘What are they doing now?’ I asked, reaching for the hand that wasn’t holding Polly’s and gripping it tightly.

I saw the visible effort it took for Raegan to formulate a reply.

‘They’re coming in a moment to take her up for a CT scan and God knows what other tests.’ She looked down at the bed and shook her head slowly. ‘How did we go from a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon to this?’

A hand squeeze wasn’t enough this time, so I put my arm around her shoulders and drew her in for a hug.

‘Shit happens,’ I mumbled into her shoulder. ‘And when it does, it’s never to the people who deserve it. But this is just a tiny blip. Polly will be fine, Raegan. I know she will.’

I had a horrible memory of telling Adam exactly the same thing after he got sick, but I refused to allow my thoughts to go down that path.

Footsteps made us both look up to find a nurse and a hospital porter by the opening in the curtains.

‘They’re ready for her in Radiology,’ the nurse advised. Her eyes went to Raegan’s. ‘You can come up with her, Mum.’

Raegan gave an emphatic nod, and I wondered if the nurse realised how many people it would have taken to stop my friend from doing exactly that.

‘But I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to wait back in reception,’ she apologised to me.

‘That’s fine. I’m happy to sit anywhere.’

They were already releasing the bed from the bay when Raegan turned back towards me.

‘Actually, Lily, would you mind going back to mine and picking up some things for Polly? They said she’ll definitely be kept in overnight, whatever the results of the scans, and you know she can’t sleep without Murphy. Oh, and maybe you could bring in her new pink pyjamas – the ones with the rainbows on them.’

She rummaged in her bag and produced a bunch of keys and thrust them into my hand.

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I stayed here at the hospital?’

Raegan shook her head, her focus and gaze back on Polly, who had murmured softly at the movement of the bed.

‘Okay, then. I’ll be as quick as I can,’ I promised, giving her one last brief hug that was cut short as the hospital bed was pushed out of the cubicle.