Chapter 11
ELEVEN
DESPAIR
Scarlet
In a scene identical to yesterday’s, I flew to the caretaker’s office and gave a panicked request to book a pool car, but unlike yesterday, there was no excited smile underlining my words.
“I think my friend is hurt. He was in a crash. I need to find him,” I spluttered.
“My God!” the caretaker gasped. “Do you want me to call the police? Or an ambulance?”
I went to say yes, but what would she tell them?
“I don’t know where he is. I’ll find him first.” I thanked her, took the keys, and ran to the car park.
In my haste, I hadn’t changed from my office heels into my flats, so I kicked the stilettos to the passenger side and drove barefoot out into Edinburgh.
I debated the route Ally would have taken home: probably across the Queensferry Bridge then up the motorway into the heart of Scotland and onto the Highlands.
But the brief glimpse I’d got of his surroundings hadn’t looked like motorway.
Plus a car couldn’t have jumped the central barrier, surely.
The remembered tone of his voice had me nauseated.
His words. The shock on his face.
The red.
Focus.
I couldn’t help him if I couldn’t find him.
For thirty minutes, I navigated out of the city’s busy Saturday lunchtime traffic, frustrated beyond belief at the slow-moving cars, and dialling his number over and over. I passed the spot where yesterday I’d picked him up, and I scanned the street, looking for his Land Rover.
It was a big car. Old and robust. Anything that hit it would bounce off it.
I drove on, forcing myself not to speed.
But by the time I neared the northern coast, still, I’d seen no sign of him.
Then there was nothing for it, I had to continue.
Frantic with worry, I crossed the wide expanse of water and got onto the motorway on the other side.
Dark clouds rolled in overhead, and a sudden rainstorm hit.
In the tiny city car, I cringed at the huge lorries around me.
With the weather and the speed of the lanes, it became harder and harder to search the roadside.
Another half hour on, and my adrenaline sank into despair.
He couldn’t have come this way. I was wrong. He wouldn’t have had enough time to get this far.
“Fuck!” I hit the steering wheel.
In my bag, on the passenger seat, my phone bleeped.
Not Ally’s tone. My sister’s. I took the next exit, swearing at the red traffic lights.
Then I was at a lay-by and snatching up my phone.
Two messages from Mathilda appeared on the screen, and one from Dad, too, asking when I’d land in London. I scanned what Mathilda had sent.
Ally’s been in an accident.
He’s been taken to Perth hospital. Callum’s on his way.
Oh God. I dialled her number. There was no answer. “Argh!” I bit out.
Then I looked up my position on the map. Perth wasn’t much farther north.
My phone rang again: Dad. I answered it.
“Ah, Scarlet, you must be about to take off. What time shall I send a car for you?”
“No. I’m not on the flight.” I swallowed. “I was talking to Alasdair on the phone earlier, but he was in a car crash. I’m heading to the hospital now.”
Silence met my ears.
I knew everything that was passing through Dad’s mind, but I didn’t wait to let him voice his thoughts. I started the car again and glanced in my mirrors, preparing to move. “I’ll call you later and let you know my plans. Love you.” Then I hung up and got back on the road.
The afternoon went in a series of stages. I arrived at the hospital before anyone else but couldn’t see Ally. The Accident and Emergency nurse told me he needed surgery but nothing more, and they needed his next of kin to arrive to give permission.
Frustration had me pacing A&E.
After what felt like forever, Callum strode into the place with Wasp close behind. The two big men bore down on me, their expressions bleak.
“Here!” I waved at the nurse registering patients. “This is Ally McRae’s brother.”
The woman quickly took Callum to meet the attending doctor.
Wasp and I followed. With brisk questions and answers, Callum got the update I wanted: Ally had been involved in a catastrophic accident.
A car had apparently hit his, though the hospital staff had no idea how it happened, leaving Ally pinned under twisted metal.
He had a badly broken leg, possible other breaks, and multiple lacerations.
He’d bled, a lot. And hadn’t regained consciousness.
Wasp thrust himself forwards, talking about his twin status and being available for blood transfusions, or whatever his brother needed.
“That could be useful. Come with me,” the doctor said to Wasp. He glanced at Callum. “I’ll need you to sign papers.”
They disappeared through flapping doors, leaving me standing there in the middle of the floor.
I found a seat and collapsed onto it, exhausted and feeling like a fraud. What was I doing there? How could I explain myself? Then again, Mathilda had told me specifically about the accident. I pulled my phone from my bag and checked it.
Mathilda’s texts had been sent to a group, not just to me.
My reason for being there shrank further.
Yet I couldn’t leave.
An hour or so later, Callum reappeared. He made his way to the coffee machine and bought a drink. Taking a sip, he caught sight of me and paused then changed direction, joining me. “I forgot you were here, sweetheart. Have ye heard the latest?”
I shook my head, trying to stop my bottom lip from trembling. I adored Callum and looked up to him. He’d always been kind to me and he was utterly devoted to my sister and their children. He also never accepted bullshit. Life to Callum was black and white.
Me being here was definitely a grey area.
“Alasdair is in surgery now. They x-rayed his leg, and it’s broken badly so needs repair.
He has three broken ribs, too.” He took a deep inhale, and my stomach crunched at what else there was to come.
“The doctor said he was cut up badly by the broken metal. They’ll patch him up, but he could need further surgery. ”
I closed my eyes for a long second. “But he’ll be okay?”
“I think so.” A heavy arm came around me, and I sank onto the big man’s chest.
“I was talking to him on the phone when it happened,” I managed. “He wasn’t driving. He’d parked up to speak to me, then midway through our conversation, he yelled at another car for being on the wrong side of the road. I saw it happen.”
“Shite. That must have been terrifying.” Callum swallowed.
We sat there for a minute.
“I didn’t know the two of ye were so close. Are you and he…?”
“No, we’re not dating.” The word came easily, but it tasted bitter, and I had no idea why. I was leaving, and Ally had told me he didn’t want a girlfriend. He’d been about to say the same just before the crash. We both knew the score.
“I meant friends, lass.”
“I’m not sure we’re that either.”
Which begged the question: Why was I still here?
Ally had everything he needed. I was surplus to requirements and only in the way.
I dislodged Callum’s heavy arm and stood, keeping my expression carefully neutral. “Can you please text me once he gets out of surgery? I need to go. I’m flying back to London. I just want to know that he’s okay.”
“Scarlet?” Callum reached out a took my hand. He pressed my fingers then shook them to make me meet his gaze. “I’ll make sure to tell him ye came. I know he’ll appreciate it.”
I dipped my head then left before I welled up again. Later, I’d call Mathilda and tell her what I knew about Ally’s visits with the baby and his discussion with the solicitor. Someone would need to contact them on his behalf.
But that someone wasn’t me. I wasn’t part of his life and I needed to get back to my own.
Hours later, I arrived home to my parents’ London mansion, and I let myself in and trudged up the stairs. Just before my flight, I’d heard from Callum. Ally’s surgery had gone well, but they were keeping him unconscious until they could fix other injuries he’d sustained.
I’d cried at the message, then I’d switched my phone off and travelled home.
Now, I stared at my parents’ living room door, wanting to be anywhere but here.
It opened in front of my eyes. Mom stood there, in a long, draped evening gown, delicate crystals sparkling on her décolletage.
“Scarlet? Are you coming in? We just got home.”
They’d known to expect me. Dad had sent a car to the airport.
I stepped inside the room, unable to summon a smile. “Hi, Mom.”
“I heard about Callum’s brother. A sad business.”
“His name is Ally.” I dropped my bags to the floor.
“Boys and fast cars.” Mom waved a hand.
“Ally drives an old car that Callum used to own. He isn’t reckless. Someone crashed into him.” My voice came out monotonous, no tone to show Mom just how much her words annoyed me.
She ushered me to sit, then took a perch on the corner of a white couch. Her expression flickered, registering worry.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Actually, I need to talk to you about something. Your father is in the shower, so we can talk privately for a moment.”
“What? Did something happen?”
Mom shook her head. “Your father has been told by his doctors to reduce his working hours. He had a physical, and there were warning signs in a number of areas. Cholesterol, blood pressure, you know, the usual for a man who rarely rests.”
“Is he sick? Is he having treatment?”
“Not enough. He needs to reduce his stress. I’m trying to persuade him to take a holiday, but I’d also like you and your sister to play a role. Keep him calm. Keep him happy.”
I nodded, the news the cherry on the cake of a shitty day.
“I’ll do my best.” I kissed my mother on the cheek then stood and left for my bedroom. With any hope, I’d sleep and wake to better news tomorrow.