“Love you too.”
I end the call gently.
For a second I just hold the phone, aware of how much trust he just placed in me without making a big thing of it.
The curtain moves again.
“Ready, Alfie?” Dr Patel asks.
Alfie nods.
They bring the wheelchair.
“Can she come?” he asks immediately.
Dr Patel smiles. “Yes. She can come.”
This time Alfie reaches for my hand without hesitation.
I take it.
And as we head down the corridor together, his small fingers holding mine like this is the most natural thing in the world, I don’t question it.
I just hold on.
Chapter 21
Jack
By the time thecar pulls into the hospital drop-off it is just after seven.
I have not properly stopped moving since the phone call.
Airport. Security. Flight. Driver. Motorway. My brain has been running scenarios I don’t want to think about, even after Ava told me Alfie was stable. Even after I saw his face on video, pale but very much himself.
Especially after that, if I am honest.
Because seeing him and not being able to get to him is its own special kind of torture.
The club arranged the driver from Manchester straight to Carlisle. I barely remember the journey. I know I thanked him. I know he said something about the match. I nodded like a functioning adult.
No idea what he actually said.
All I could see was Alfie sitting on that hospital bed with his arm in a bright blue cast like it was some sort of bizarre prize.
“Look Dad!” he had said proudly on the video call. “I got blue!”
I wasn’t quite able to share his joy.
“And look what Granny got me,” he had added, producing an alarming quantity of sweets from the bedside table.
My mum had looked completely unrepentant.
“He’s had a difficult day.”
My dad had just nodded like this was obviously correct grandparent behaviour.
Ava had been sitting beside him, one hand resting lightly on his leg while he talked. Not fussing. Not hovering. Just there. Calm. Steady. Like she understood that sometimes presence matters more than words.
