As I pick myself up and race over, my heart lurches as Lila tripsand staggers, with her jumper half over her head. She does a funny little dancebackwards as if she’s practising the quickstep, then cannons into a postbearing a lifebelt and rebounds off it. Finally losing her balance altogether,she lands face down on the poolside tiles.
I reach her, calling out her name. But she’s just lyingthere, perfectly still, her jumper askew, and I can see blood on her face.
Shit, shit,shit!
I kneel over her, wishing fervently that I’d taken a coursein First Aid. And when she moans, I breathe a sigh of relief.At least she’salive!‘Lila? Are you all right?’
She lifts her face blearily and I try to pull down herjumper but it snags on her mouth and I gasp in horror. I reach for my phone butI can’t find it and panic rises up inside, making me feel breathless.
What are we going to do?
To my relief, I spot Lila’s phone lying on the ground besideher, so I pick it up and quickly call the emergency services, sticking a fingerin my ear as Lila sits up and turns the air blue with a string of expletives,having just discovered her front teeth are missing.
‘I’m going to be a toothless bride,’ she wails, literallyspitting blood. ‘This is all your fault, Martha. Why did you let me climb overthat wall? You need to find my teeth!’
I try to calm her down, saying I’m sure the dentist will beable to work wonders before Saturday.
‘What?’ she screeches. ‘A new smile in four days? Youmust be stupider than you look. Justfind my bloody teeth, will you?’Reaching out, she grabs hold of my ankle and shakes it. I try to move away buther frantic grip is so tight, it’s impossible.
In attempting to shake my foot free so I can help her up, Ifeel myself losing my balance.
And then I’m falling backwards.
My head meets the hard tiles with a crack and the world vanishes...
*****
Surfacing, I hear an ambulance siren and a drunken Lilayelling, ‘I’m getting married on Saturday. I can’t get married with no teeth.I’ll look like my granny!’ She repeats versions of this over and over again.I’m aware of an excruciating pain on the right side of my skull, and everyscreeched word of Lila’s is cutting through my head like a razor.
The events of the last two days start running wildly throughmy mind.
The sheer joy of winning the writing competition heat and meetinga real life radio presenter. Literally bumping into a lovely man called Logan...and making arrangements to meet him tomorrow at the top of the clock tower.
A perfect day. But nowthis?
Only one thought is on my mind as the colour drains from myworld and I pass out again.
I have to be at the clock tower at one-thirty tomorrow...
CHAPTER NINE
I wake to light filtering through a gap in thecurtains. I’m lying on my side and I can see the bedside clock.
It’s a quarter past nine.
Why hasn’t Dad woken me up? I should be at my desk,writing.
It must be the weekend.
Then a tidal wave of realisation comes crashing through me,just like it does every single morning these days.
The accident.
Lila grasping my ankle... trying to getfree and falling... bashing my head on the hard tiles...
I cracked my head in January.
And now it’s March.
