“It’s no bother; we’ll do some cooking back at the house. Ellen, let the boys get some rest.” Gran nudges Ma with her elbow.
“We’ll pop over in the morning. Come on, love.” Da puts his arm over Ma’s shoulder and leads her back to the car.
“You need to lie down,” Bailey says, leading me further into the house.
“I’m not getting up those.” I nod to the stairs. “You’ll have to bring a mattress down or something.”
Bailey takes a big step away from me, and I’m suddenly lifted off my feet.
“Jesus fuck! Robbie, put me down!”
He ignores me and heads up the stairs at an angle that keeps my leg from getting hurt, then puts me down gently on the bed.
I’m embarrassed and furious at him for lifting me so easily. “There is literally no bloody reason you’d need to carry me like that. Ever. And you’ve managed to do ittwicein a month. Stop it!” I snap.
I’ll never admit that I’m actually grateful to be in my own bed. The mattress is so much softer than the hospital's. It feels like it’s trying to pull me under already. I blink, and it takes a while for my eyes to open again.
Isla leans over the bed and kisses me on the cheek.
“What’s that for?”
“Shut up. We could have lost you twice in forty-eight hours. I was fucking scared, okay?”
“Okay …”
Robbie goes in for a kiss also, and I flinch backwards. “Not you—ah fuck, my leg,” I push my fingers into the muscle to try to alleviate the pain shooting through it.
“Fine, fine, we’re leaving,” Robbie sulks.
I’m already dozing off when the front door snicks closed, and the cottage falls silent, finally.
I feelas though I’ve barely slept. I stretch the best I can, trying not to pull on my thigh muscle, wincing as it twinges anyway. I reach to my side, but the bed is cold. The alarm clock on the bedside table shows it’s only four in the morning “Bay?” I call out, uncertain. Christ, my mouth is so dry, and I really need to pee. I sit up, forcing my heavy limbs to move.
There’s a bang in the room next to mine and the sound of a door opening. Bailey appears in my doorway, dishevelled. “What happened? Are you okay?” he rushes out, coming over and moving the duvet off my leg to check the bandage.
“I’m fine—stop that.” I slap his hand away.
“Then what are you waking me up for?” He folds his arms across his chest.
I point at the space next to me. “Why aren’t you here?”
Bailey rubs the back of his neck.
“I didn’t want to hurt your leg, so I slept in the spare room.”
“Okay. I really need to piss, and to drink something, but after that I’m going to tell you off.” I wriggle to the edge of the bed and slide my legs off. “Can you help me first, please?”
Bailey helps me up, and I lean on his shoulder as we hobble to the bathroom.
“You’re heavy,” Bailey mutters under his breath.
I glare at him, then put a hand on the wall beside the toilet to hold myself up, groaning in relief.
Bailey disappears and comes back with two cups of water. I finish mine quickly—the liquid agitating my sore throat on its way down. He passes me his as well, then goes to get himself another.
“In.” I point to the bed when he comes back, refusing to hear any argument on the matter. He’ll be lucky if I ever let him leave my side again, let alone go back to Cumbria. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Bailey.”
He huffs and gets into the bed, trying to keep distance between us. I stare at him in the dusky light of the room.
