24
In a blur, Adam and I burst through the double doors of H?pital Saint-Maris.
I make a beeline for the reception desk, my heart beating heavily in my chest. It’s been pounding like this since we left the bar.
We had to get the chairlift down to the chalet where Adam picked up the car.
It was the fastest way, but I felt every second of the sprint to the ski lift, the journey down the slope and then the drive here along treacherously icy roads.
The only thing we stopped for was to change into normal shoes. I didn’t realise until we parked up that I was still wearing my helmet.
‘I’m here for Penny…’ I trail off, realising I don’t know her surname.
I’ve only known her as Penny. My outspoken, no-filter, mother-like figure on the slopes every day.
I don’t even know the full extent of what happened, only that Tilly and Meghan were grabbing food in a restaurant nearby when they saw mountain rescue speeding past them with a loaded stretcher, a speechless Bill following behind them.
‘Pardon? Qu’est que vous avez dit?’
‘Uh…’ I look over at Adam, hoping he can help me out, but he shrugs, knowing even less French than I do. ‘Je veux, um, to see une femme, called Penny?’
I try and string together a sentence using the only French I can remember from my GCSEs, which earns me nothing but a grunt from the woman behind the desk even though I have a feeling she knows exactly what I’m asking.
She keeps saying things at me in French, getting increasingly frustrated when I say nothing back.
I look around frantically for someone else who could help or translate for me, really wishing Rory was here right now. Thankfully another woman in scrubs comes behind the desk and notices my panicking.
‘Excusez-moi, madame, can I help you?’
‘Thank god, yes please.’
I repeat my question, and thankfully she’s much more willing to help than her colleague, who is still giving me the side-eye from the other side of the desk.
It turns out Penny’s first name is enough for the lady to direct me to the correct room on the wing.
‘She’s been checked over and should be able to take visitors now. She’s quite popular,’ she says with a reassuring smile, and I take my first proper breath since I picked up the phone.
‘Thank you,’ I say, a hand pressed against my racing heartbeat, and I resist the urge to run towards the room she’s pointed to.
I count the numbers on the doors, turning a corner expecting to find the right room when instead I smash into a hard chest. I stumble back a step before righting myself with the help of the stranger, whose hands grasp my shoulders to keep me from falling.
When I look up, it’s a familiar face staring down at me.
Messy hair that looks like he’s been raking his hands through it repeatedly, a wild and worried look in his eyes that I know is reflected in mine. He doesn’t let me go until his gaze shifts behind me, taking in Adam as he also turns into the same corridor.
Rory’s expression shifts as he looks between us both, jaw tightening. But I don’t have time for whatever he thinks is going on with me and Adam, or what happened this morning in the hotel. There are more important things to talk about right now.
‘What happened? Is she okay?’
Rory pauses, and my heart leaps into my throat.
‘She’s stable, and she’s awake. She’s had an ultrasound on her shoulder and she’s torn her rotator cuff, and we’re waiting to hear back on a potential ACL tear in her left knee too.
She fell and landed on her shoulder then twisted whilst going down one of the red runs I’d suggested.
’ He pauses, his head tilted up to the ceiling as he squeezes his eyes closed.
He still hasn’t taken his hands off my shoulders, and I reach up to squeeze his wrists.
‘It’s okay, it’s not your fault.’
He shakes his head. ‘But it is. If I hadn’t suggested that run, she wouldn’t be in the hospital right now. If I hadn’t been so distracted I would’ve thought through my suggestions better, but I just listed them off and—’
‘Rory, stop.’ A hazy film has fallen over his eyes, and I hate to see the guilt that’s eating away at him.
‘Penny didn’t even need to be in your lessons, she told me so herself. She’s been skiing her whole life, so she knew exactly what she was doing. These things happen, and you can’t put all the blame on yourself.’
I’m not sure he believes me, but I hope he acknowledges the truth in what I’ve said.
‘Lottie, you’re here!’
Tilly rushes down the corridor towards me, with Meghan, Lucas and David all trailing behind her.
At her voice, Rory moves away, his hands finally leaving my shoulders and I immediately wish for them back.
Tilly pulls me into a hug and starts to recount the full story, and I try to listen but my focus is split between her and the man I still have so many things I want to say to.
But that’ll have to wait, because when Tilly starts to lead me towards Penny’s room, I search around for him, and he’s already gone.
When we push open the double doors Penny is sitting up in her bed with Bill stretched out in the chair beside her, lightly snoring.
Tilly stays in the corridor as I continue inside and Penny manages a grin as I make my way over to her.
She’s heavily bandaged, and is linked up to multiple tubes, one of which I’m sure is feeding her a hefty amount of pain medication.
A monitor steadily beeps at her bedside, and I try not to show how worrying it all looks to me.
She nods towards where her husband sleeps.
‘I think he’s had a bit too much excitement for one day. ’
I laugh, taking a seat on her other side. ‘Only you would end up in the hospital and describe the day as exciting.’
‘Ah, well you didn’t see the hunks from mountain rescue who brought me here,’ she says, fanning herself, and I know if Bill was awake, he’d be sporting his signature frown.
I don’t know what to say, knowing there’s nothing that can be of comfort right now with injuries this severe, but apparently she has something she’d like to say to me instead.
‘I’m glad you’re here, because I wanted a minute to speak with you alone.’ She clasps her hands together and rests them on her lap, and I sense the start of a more serious conversation.
‘You know, you didn’t need to fall on the slopes just to get me alone. An invitation for a hot chocolate would’ve sufficed.’
She sighs and turns her head to where Bill is sitting. ‘He’s going to be saying “I told you so” for years after we get home. At least I won’t have to get my salopettes repaired after they tore on the way down.’
She jokes, but I can sense the sadness there at the fact she knows she likely won’t be skiing again for a while, and my heart breaks.
She seems like the type of person who does whatever she likes, consequences be damned, which is something I admire and should probably take notes on.
But now life has stepped in and taken one of those choices away from her.
‘That boy of yours was pacing so much outside my door I thought he’d work himself through the floor.
’ She pulls me back to the conversation as she tuts and shakes her head.
It doesn’t take long for me to figure out who she’s referring to.
‘When he finally did come in, he looked awful. I know it was partly because he felt responsible for what happened to me, though I of course told him to stop being a numpty. But it was more than that.’
She stops, waiting for me to fill the gap, but I bet that whatever I might say, she’s already figured it out.
‘You had the same look this morning in class. So tell me, sweetheart, what’s going on?’
It’s ridiculous that she wants to talk about me right now, when she’s the one lying in a hospital bed.
But maybe she wants the distraction. I think back to what Adam said to me in the bar earlier, about how I should try and let myself take more risks.
Not always worry what the right or safe choice might be, or think of other people instead of myself.
I look at Penny in front of me, a woman who’s gone on a ski holiday at an age many would’ve told her she shouldn’t and ended up here, yet still has a smile on her face.
Looking at her, I decide to tell her everything. Because if there’s anyone I can learn how to be a bit wilder from, it’s her.
I start at the beginning, telling her about life growing up in the lively chaos that was my childhood, with all its highs and lows, celebrations and trials.
No one is a bigger fan of my mum and dad than me.
But I’ll also always remember how stressed they would get when we neared the end of the month.
How the heating would be turned down, driving to school would be replaced with walking, and re-opened holes in years-old school shirts would be sewn up for the fifth time.
Mum smiling as she’d say, ‘It’s as good as new. ’
And I didn’t mind it. If I was cold, Mum and I would create a blanket fort and cuddle up close on the sofa, and I liked the slowness of walking to school with my dad, where he could point out all the birds we passed and we could pretend we were explorers.
I didn’t need new things, or expensive after-school classes, and yet when I realised it might be possible to have those things, I wanted to experience them.
And more than that, I wanted to help Mum and Dad experience that too.
‘So I decided I would only draw and paint for fun. I knew if I wanted that kind of life for myself, my parents, and any other family of my own I might one day have, the easiest thing to do to achieve it would be to get a solid, stable job. And giving up on art as a possible career was the easiest way to achieve it.’
If Penny’s confused as to why I’m telling her my life story when I know she was only asking about Rory, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she listens intently, her expression thoughtful as she considers everything I’ve said so far. ‘And have those decisions made you happy?’