Page 67 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

Surgery. Jack laid out on cold metal … green cloth over him. No doubt all wired up. Just a couple of hours ago she was looking forward to a night of catering and entertaining, hearing his banter across the way, with Ruby bold and bright and beautiful. The life and soul of the party. It seemed unbelievable, how life could pivot on a pinhead. And then, finally, at the end of the night they might finally have had chance to chat. She brushed away a heavy tear.

‘Here, take a seat, love.’ Simon guided her with a calm, caring hand, to the chair next to his wife.

‘It might be a while before we hear anything, so can we get you a cup of tea from the machine, or anything?’ Denise offered.

They were being so kind, so gracious, yet they must be tearing up inside just like she was. Lucy’s stomach was a total whirl. ‘Thanks, but I don’t think I fancy anything,’ Lucy managed to reply. ‘It’s all such a shock …’

‘I can fetch something for us all a little later,’ Denise’s tone was soothing.

‘Umm, it’s alright, I can get something for us. In a while …’ Lucy realised Jack’s parents would also need some TLC, but she needed to feel more settled before she could stomach anything. Perhaps, when they’d had some news. Hopefully, something positive to cling onto.

‘That’d be nice,’ replied Jack’s dad. The words floating politely.

Suddenly it hit her, what an ironic way to at last be meeting them – in the reception of a bloody hospital. They sat in their own silent worlds for a few seconds, Simon then resuming with, ‘So, were you at a function? Was that where Jack was headed with the camper?’

‘Yes, a birthday celebration that I’ve abandoned …’ Oh crikey. ‘I just needed to see him … be with him.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Simon empathetically.

The image of Ruby wrecked at the roadside hit her once more. Oh, and where on earth was Olly? Had he followed the ambulance? Gone home? Lucy’s thoughts were jumbled.

‘We came straight away too,’ Denise added. ‘They’d found his phone. We’re his emergency contact.’

It was hard conversing with their hearts feeling bashed up and their heads so full of fear. So, they rested in silent solidarity for a while.

The clock kept ticking and still no news. Simon went to the desk for an update, but the receptionist just gave a gentle smile and shook her head. ‘Nothing new,’ Simon reported back.

People darted in and out. Sat waiting. Beepers going off. The reception phone buzzing away. The tap, tap, tap of the keyboard. New patients in, teary relatives. Fear, hope, confusion. Life in the balance. The false alarm. The touch and go. Jack in a scanner right now.

Lucy checked her phone with trembling fingers, suddenly thinking to update Matt and find out what had happened to Olly. She then saw that her brother had already messaged. He’d headed back home for now, after being advised by the ambulance crew that only family members were allowed to accompany under blue lights. He explained that he hadn’t wanted to crowd A&E, but would come along to keep her company at any time if she wanted. She just had to say the word.

After updating her brother and then Matt, she fired a quick message across to Claire at the party, sending her apologies once more, saying they were waiting for news on Jack, and that she’d most likely come and collect the horsebox sometime tomorrow. With a sigh, she remembered how she’d abandoned her pizza station. She added that they could help themselves to the already made-up pizza bases, and feel free to bake them off in the house oven if they wanted.

She had no idea how long ago it was, since she’d dashed off in her Jeep … in a bit of a trance … She glanced at her wristwatch – crikey, that was well over an hour-and-a-half ago now.

Was no news, good news? Or did it mean he had already gone into surgery? Oh, Jack …

Chapter Thirty-Two

Time crawled. Lucy went for the briefest of walks, just outside of the A&E doors, to get some fresh air, then back in again. It didn’t do a lot to clear the thick head she was now struggling with. But she didn’t want to miss any developments, and perhaps, please dear God, the chance to finally see him, hold him.

Quiet spells, followed by inane polite chat, bitter-tasting instant coffee in flimsy plastic cups. Silent, yet massive heartfelt prayers. The three of them sat together. A weird yet comforting kind of shelter in a storm.

And then finally: ‘Mr and Mrs Anderson?’ A lady dressed in green scrubs came out through the swing doors.

Jack’s parents were up off their seats like a shot, with an anxious Lucy close behind.

‘How is he?’ Denise’s voice wavered.

‘So, he’s had his scan and is being closely monitored.’

He was alive, if he was being monitored … he was alive.

‘He took a big impact, however … the next few hours are critical.’

Oh God, what was she saying?

‘Come on through. I can take you somewhere a little more private.’