Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
brAM
But it’s not Quinn. It’s Peggy.
‘Bram,’ she says, when I pick up, and the tightness in that single syllable is all I need to know that something’s wrong. All the frustration drains out of my body in a split second, panic rushing into the spaces it left. It’s all I can do just to speak.
‘Yes?’
‘Are you still out with Lucy?’ she asks, and I look down at my hand, still wrapped around Lucy’s thigh.
‘I am.’
‘Ok.’ Peggy huffs out a shaky little breath, and there’s a pause before she speaks again, which damn near kills me. ‘You need to come back to the cottage.’ I hear the tiniest of sobs before she says, quietly, ‘It’s your mum.’
The words make something cold slip down my spine, a finger of ice against my skin. Panic roars in my ears. The specialist home that I managed to get her into is brilliant at managing the day to day, so if they’ve called, it must be something serious.
But wait, I’m the first emergency contact. Why didn’t they call me?
I minimise the call so that I can see my notifications, and my heart sinks to my feet.
Three missed calls from Bradbury House.
It must have been while Lucy was wearing my jacket.
I have the volume and vibration turned all the way down so I don’t get overwhelmed by my near-constant notifications – my senses are a little heightened, so things like that grate on me easily – but I doubt she would have been able to tell.
And I was so distracted by her that I didn’t even think to check when I put my jacket back on.
Shit.
‘I’m on my way,’ I say to Peggy, and then I hang up and pocket my phone.
Lucy doesn’t say anything, but when I look back at her, her eyes are as wide as mine, and ringed with concern. My instinct is to push her away – to blame her, in a way, for me missing the calls. But I don’t do that. Instead I take a deep, steadying breath and reach out for her hand.
‘That was Peggy,’ I say as I help her off the rock, my other hand going to her waist until she finds her footing on the sand. ‘I need to go back to the cottage. It’s urgent.’
I don’t tell her the rest. I can’t bring myself to say the words, though they play on a loop in my head as I stand, half-paralysed by fear, the sea breeze whipping my hair into my face. In my periphery, I can see her studying me quietly, carefully.
‘I’ll go with you,’ she says eventually, and I feel the tiny squeeze of her hand in mine like it’s a lifeline.
We set off together, back along the harbour front and over the bridge.
We pass places we visited earlier, but they seem different now, my anxiety dulling the shine of the lights in the arcades and making the smell of fresh doughnuts turn my stomach.
It suddenly doesn’t feel like my Whitby anymore, and I hate it.
It reminds me of being a teenager, making this same journey after I got a call a lot like this one.
Liam.
It’s your dad.
The memory makes bile rise in my chest, and I swallow it down, along with the grip of dread that’s begun to creep up my throat.
And then I feel Lucy’s soft fingers tightening around mine again.
There’s something about the way that she touches me, or the feeling of her skin against mine, that calms me.
Just a little. Just enough to not completely lose it.
I squeeze her hand gently in return – a thank you. It’s all I can do.
When we reach the cottage, Peggy is standing on the front step, a black wool blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She looks tiny there, older than I remember her being, like the weight of whatever’s happened has drained all the life out of her.
She ushers us in quickly and leads us to the kitchen, motioning to the old monk’s bench.
Lucy sits, and Peggy sits beside her, but anxiety keeps me on my feet.
Poe trots in on our heels, calling out plaintive meows while he winds figure eights through my legs.
I scoop him up, scratching behind his ears the way he likes.
‘I’ll tell you what I know,’ Peggy says, all in a rush.
‘W?adek took the call, so this is second hand, but…’ Her voice trails off, and it’s obvious from the hitch of her shoulders that she’s trying not to cry.
Lucy reaches out and rests her hand on Peggy’s forearm, and my chest tightens even further.
‘It’s your mum,’ Peggy manages, meeting my eyes with an apologetic smile that fades as soon as it appears.
‘She was taken to hospital earlier today. Angela tried to call you and Lizzie, but when neither of you answered, she called us. W?adek didn’t have any real details but she’s…
’ She pauses, rubbing the pads of her thumb and forefinger together the way she does when she’s trying to collect her thoughts. ‘W?adek said she was unresponsive.’
Unresponsive.
Fuck.
I hear Lucy’s intake of breath, but I don’t see it. I don’t even realise that I’ve buried my face in the cat until he squawks, wriggling out of my grasp and leaping onto the worktop next to me. When I look up, both women are looking at me, their eyes rimmed red with worry.
I try to steady my breathing. ‘Which hospital?’
‘The LGI.’ Peggy thumbs a tear from her cheek. ‘We can drive you, once W?ad gets home. You shouldn’t drive when you’ve had news like this.’ She looks up at me with solemn eyes. ‘He was trying to get off work early but now he isn’t answering his phone.’
I manage a small smile. Despite taking her driving test seven times, Peggy has yet to pass.
‘I’ll take you,’ Lucy says quietly, and when I look down at her, her eyes are set, determined. ‘We can leave right now.’
I don’t know if it’s the inbuilt arsehole alpha male bullshit in me, but I want to tell her no.
I want to pretend that I’m fine, that I don’t need help, but from the look on her face she knows exactly how terrified I am.
There’s something in her eyes – some understanding that tells me that she’s been here before – and my heart breaks for her.
‘I’ll drive,’ she says, her voice soothing but absolutely firm, and I have to give in, caveman instincts or otherwise. I can’t deny that I’d be a danger on the road in my current state.
‘Ok,’ I say with a nod. ‘Let’s go.’
Lucy runs to the annexe to grab her bag while Peggy walks me to the front door, holding both of my cheeks in her palms like she used to do when I was a little boy.
‘Call me as soon as you know anything,’ she says, her mouth pinching with held back tears. ‘Safe journey.’
I kiss her on the cheek and head down the stone steps.
‘And Bram?’ Peggy calls after me, and I turn to look at her over my shoulder.
‘She’s a good one.’
The journey to Leeds is quiet and fraught with a heavy tension that has both of us in its grasp.
I distract myself by focusing on Lucy’s knuckles which periodically whiten as she tightens her grip on my steering wheel.
Every so often she takes a breath in like she’s about to speak, but no words come.
She doesn’t say a single thing until we’re all the way past York.
‘I don’t know what to say to make it better,’ she blurts all of a sudden, so earnestly that it makes something tighten in my gut.
I blow a breath out. ‘Just you being here is making it better.’ It’s kind of a trite sentiment, but it’s true.
I dread to think how much of a mess I’d be if I were on my own.
I sneak a glance at her as the road straightens out.
It’s dark now, and her profile is backlit by the streetlights outside. It looks like a halo.
Like I said, she’s an angel.
‘Talk to me about something,’ I say, and in my periphery I see her nibbling on her thumbnail. ‘Distract me.’
‘Ok.’ She nods, replacing her hand on my steering wheel and adjusting her grip. ‘I sent Mina an important message this morning, and when she finally got back to me, all she sent was two brain emojis and a thumbs up.’
I smile my first genuine smile since the phone call on the beach. ‘Yeah, that does sound like Mina.’
‘Absolutely useless,’ she says with a chuckle, glancing my way quickly before she merges onto a roundabout. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to badmouth your family there.’
‘You know she’s not even my real cousin.’
I feel the air move past my face as Lucy whips her head around to look at me. ‘What?’
My smile’s bigger this time. ‘Peggy’s my dad’s sister, and W?adek is Mina’s mum’s brother.
’ That’s their story, anyway. He’s actually more like Mina’s mum’s great-great-great-great-grandad.
Or maybe more greats than that. But that’s pretty difficult to explain without going into the whole immortality thing.
‘What’s that, second cousins? Something once removed?
’ I shake my head. ‘I don’t know how any of it works.
Maybe we’re not actually related at all. ’
‘I don’t think you are,’ Lucy says with a sudden air of confidence.
‘Not officially, anyway. Second cousins share a great-grandparent, and cousins once removed are just a generation away from cousins. You and Mina don’t share any ancestors at all, from the sound of it.
’ She takes a breath, and it sounds a little steadier now.
‘Best case, I’d say you’re cousins-in-law. ’
I manage a chuckle, even through my panic. ‘You’re pretty impressive, Lucy Partridge.’
She waves the compliment away. ‘I once did a piece on a lady who’d compiled the biggest and most comprehensive family tree in England. She talked me through the whole thing.’ She moves again, like she’s shrugging. ‘I know a lot about family now. Ironic as I don’t really have one.’
That wipes the smile off my face. She says it so matter-of-factly, the way you might say that you don’t own a cat or you don’t have a front garden. It’s not the way you should say that you don’t have a family.
I can’t even imagine it. I mean, my immediate family is a bit … well, it’s lacking, but my parents were both from big families, so I have aunts and uncles and cousins all over the country. And fake cousins and their ancient ancestors too, obviously.