‘Oh, no love,’ Colin answered, sounding anxious. ‘D’you think she’ll need much? What will she want? Where does she even keep it all?’
‘If she’s going to be in here for the next few days, she’ll want her night cream, lipstick and best dressing gown at the very least,’ Rosie said with a small smile. ‘But don’t worry, I can sort it. I’ll go back to the house and pack her a bag.’
‘You’re an angel,’ her dad said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Yeah. Thanks, Rose. You’re solid,’ Michael murmured. It was probably the nicest thing he’d ever said to her.
Chapter 26
Julie awoke a couple of hours after Rosie returned to the hospital with an overnight bag for her. Squeezing her daughter against her chest with unusual enthusiasm, her mother expressed sincere thanks for the gift of clean underwear, not to mention her favourite TrueYOU makeup essentials and a copy of that week’sGrazia.
‘I’m really grateful, love,’ she whispered. ‘And you know, your hair really does look good like that. It’s funky. Confident.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ Rosie said. ‘I’m just glad you’re all right.’
That evening, when visiting hours were over, Rosie, Colin and Michael returned home. Rosie slept in her old childhood bedroom – a boxy little space that now boasted shelf upon shelf of cosmetics and skincare products. She had no idea when it had become Julie’s stockroom but made a mental note to hunt out anything that might suit her.When in Rome, she told herself.
She’d messaged Rhianne to ask if someone else could cover her shift on Monday and received an emphatic yes in response, as well as warm wishes for her mother’s recovery. Rhianne also sent a grovelling apology, devastated that she might have caused a rift between Rosie and her cousin. Rosie didn’t have the heart to fib, so she replied with no reference to Aled, a vague assurance that she was OK and a promise that she’d be back at work as soon as possible.
Aled had sent her several texts over the past twenty-four hours, and had tried to call her twice. Inside the hospital, her mobile signal was weak – and in any case, she didn’t know what to say to him.
She was angry with him, but she didn’t trust herself not to melt and forgive him within minutes if she heard his voice.
In the end, she settled for a brief, non-committal WhatsApp:
Mum’s going to be OK, thank god. So will I x
What she really wanted, she realised, was for him tobehere with her. She wanted to fall against him, to let him share the weight of all the worry she’d suffered in the past couple of days. She wanted him to kiss her hair, to tell her everything was going to be all right – to feel the safe, reassuring solidity of him. After their argument, though, she felt too proud – as well as too hurt – to ask. And it was too much to hope that he’d intuit any of this for himself.
On Sunday afternoon, an unexpected visitor did arrive at the hospital. As Rosie refilled her mum’s water jug at the fountain in the corridor of the ward she’d been moved to, she saw James striding towards her.
Somehow, Rosie managed not to drop the plastic carafe in shock. She felt her mouth go slack and her brow furrow.
What the actualfuck?
‘Er – hi,’ she said, when he came to a stop directly in front of her – right next to the now full water jug, which she’d placed on the floor near her feet.
‘Hi,’ James said, imbuing the word with a gravity that implied he was here to say something important. Rosie’s heart sank. The last thing she needed right now was more drama.
‘What are you doing here? Are you here to see Mum? Because that’s nice and everything, but it’s probably a bit inappropriate now we’ve split up.’
‘I wanted to see you,’ James said.
‘Oh. How did you even know I was here?’
‘Michael posted something on Facebook about your mum being ill. I knew you’d be here for her. You’re always there for the people you love.’
Facebook?For the love of god. Rosie rolled her eyes, then scratched the back of her neck uncomfortably. ‘So … what did you want, James? Only, I need to give Mum this water while it’s still cold.’
This was a piss-poor excuse for fleeing, but it was the best she could come up with under pressure.
‘I wanted to tell you that I’ve realised I’ve been wrong about everything these past few months,’ James said in a rush, before she had a chance to bolt. ‘I feel like I’ve woken up from a nightmare, only everything I did in the dream was real.’
He looked thoroughly sorry for himself, and Rosie almost felt bad for him.
‘I’ve messed up my whole life,’ James went on, his mouth turned down in an almost childlike expression. He looked tired. Disappointed. Desperate for someone to swoop in and make it all better.
‘What about Dylan?’ Rosie asked. ‘Forgive me, James, but this speech is somewhat surprising given the last time I saw you was at your engagement party.’
