We snag the last space in the nearest available car park, right on the top floor, and the driver of the car on my side has parked like such a dick that I’m forced to perform a kind of escape artist manoeuvre and clamber out of the driver’s side. There’s no way on earth to make that look cool.
Not that I’m worried about looking cool with what’s going on at the moment, obviously. Except maybe just a little, because I’m a deeply flawed person.
It’s not time to dwell on my failings now though. We need to get to the hospital.
I start to lead Lucy by the hand by habit before I realise that we’re in Leeds now, and she probably knows these streets better than I do. It’s busy at this time, early drinkers out among the dregs of the shopping crowd. I draw more glances here than I do back in Whitby. There I’m just another guy in black, but here I stand out.
Eyes linger on me, but I’m used to it. It’s the neck tattoo, usually. It’s strange, with the amount of ink I’ve got on me, that that’s the one which tips people past a point. Some people look with thinly veiled disgust in their eyes. Sometimes it’s thinly veiled lust. There’s something a little different this time though– every so often the eyes jump from me to Lucy and widen as they do.
I can imagine what they’re thinking. We’re complete opposites. But it gets under my skin in a way that I can’t quite explain. Like they think I’m not good enough for her.
I keep my head down as we wind through the streets and emerge in Millennium Square. The hospital looms up in front of us, and my steps falter, memories lapping over me like waves. Iwant to run in the opposite direction, but I don’t. Instead I snag Lucy’s hand before we go through the doors and pull her into me, wrapping her in a tight hug. She melts against me, so close that I can feel her heart beating in her chest– steady, like her.
‘Whatever happens,’ she mutters, ‘I’m here.’
And I know it’s true. Lucy hasn’t asked, hasn’t pried. She’d just been by my side, quietly ready to help, making everything a little easier. I wonder if she knows how rare that is. How raresheis. Too rare for me to ruin with my nonsense.
‘Ok,’ she says, squeezing tightly one last time before she untangles herself from me. ‘You’re ready.’
And as she slips her hand back into mine, I actually feel like it’s true. That is, until we walk through the hospital doors and in an instant it’s like I’m a teenager again, back in a building which looks and smells just like this, waiting outside the ward to see my dad for what I don’t know then will be the last time ever. Grief scratches at me in the familiar places, but now in somewhere new– in the place that I thought was safe.
I’m not ready to lose anyone else that I love. Not yet.
I spot Angela, my mum’s lead carer, just beside the reception desk, her phone pressed to her ear, face solemn. My heart sinks. I feel every step I take towards her like a drumbeat through my whole body, deep and ominous, a reluctant march towards the abyss.
But my phone rings in my pocket before I can reach her.
I almost don’t answer it, but when I see Peggy’s name, something tells me that I should.
‘Bram?’ she asks, before I can even speak. Her breath escapes all at once, the sound harsh against my ear. There’s an urgency to her voice, but the worry in her tone from earlier has gone, and I don’t quite know what to make of it.
‘I’m at the hospital,’ I say, not taking my eyes off Angela in case her call ends and I can speak to her. ‘What’s up?’
‘Yeah,’ Peggy replies, ‘about that.’ I hear some shuffling, then a muffled voice in the background. ‘I’ve got someone here who owes you an apology.’
What?
‘Bram,’ Wladek says, regret in his tone. ‘It seems I might have accidentally caused a bit of a fuss.’
I feel my brows pinch together. ‘A… what?’
‘It seems you got the impression that your mother was in a very bad way.’ I’ve never heard Wladek sound this sheepish. ‘But that’s actually not what I said.’
Wait, Now I’m confused.
‘You said she was unresponsive!’ I hear Peggy half shout in the background. It’s not at all like her to snap at him like that.
‘Ok, byshe,’ he replies, turning from sheepish to defensive in an instant, ‘I meantAngela. And shewasunresponsive! The call lost signal, and I tried to call her back three times, but she didn’t pick up once.’
‘I… that’s not what that… oh my God.’ I sigh, relief almost within my grasp. ‘So what’s the real story?’
‘I don’t know.’ There’s a rustle, which I can imagine is him shrugging, still in his cape. ‘Like I said, she was unresponsive.’
I pinch the bridge of my nose. ‘Wladek, that’s not… you know what, never mind.’
‘She didn’t get as far as telling me what had actually happened, just that your mum had been taken to hospital, but that it was being dealt with and you shouldn’t worry.’
And with that, the relief finally comes, barrelling out of me as a laugh. ‘You know, this would have been useful information two hours ago,’ I say, a shake in my voice that I actually hadn’t noticed until now.