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chapter 57
alex
The urge to beat down the cottage door and snatch my daughter back is almost as hard to resist as the drive to bear down during childbirth. I force myself to stay in the car, staring unseeingly into the darkness through the teeming rain as I think this through. I can’t rush in, like a bull in a china shop. I only have one shot at this. I have to do it the right way, the legal way, or the woman will take Lottie and disappear again.
My phone buzzes and I snatch it up. But it’s not Jack or Quinn.
‘Alex, you need to come home,’ Dad says, without preamble.
‘Dad, I can’t—’
‘We’re at the hospital,’ Dad says. ‘Your mum’s not well. We’re waiting for her to be seen. We’re not sure what’s wrong until we see a doctor, but she’s in a lot of pain. It’s like she’s got appendicitis, but it’s in the wrong place.’
My stomach goes into free fall. Mum’s had cancer twice already; she’s in remission, but we all know it could come back at any time.
‘Is she going to be OK?’
‘Darling, I’m sure she’ll be fine, but I think she’d like to see you.’
He doesn’t sound like he thinks she’s going to be fine.
‘I’m out of town right now,’ I say, not wanting Dad to know I’m in Devon. He has enough to worry about without thinking I’m chasing phantoms again. ‘I’ll be back some time tomorrow. I’ll come and see her as soon as I can. Can you let me know how she’s doing in the morning?’
‘There’s no rush,’ Dad says. ‘It’s quite busy here tonight. I think we could be in for a long wait.’
‘Dad, you need to keep on at them,’ I urge. ‘Make sure they know she’s had cancer. Don’t let them just shove her to the back of the queue.’
‘I’ve got this, Alex. Look, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
He hasn’t got this.
My parents are decent, good people. They take their turn, play fair, pay their share, don’t make a fuss. Dad will never go up to whoever is managing triage and demand my mother is seen. He’ll sit patiently waiting for her name to be called, while a mouthy girl with a stubbed toe creates such havoc she gets whisked to the front of the line just so they can be rid of her. He’d never dream of making a nuisance of himself.
I have no such compunction.
But I can’t just leave Lottie. What if the woman disappears with her again? I have to wait here until Jack mobilises the police. I can’t let her out of my sight.
I check the live wait times at the Mid-Surrey Hospital. Six hours. Mum can’t be left on a trolley for six hours! Dad’ll never get her bumped up the queue. And in her immune-compromised state, a wait like that could kill her.
No one should have to choose between their mother and their child. I slam the palm of my hand against the wheel in fury and jump as the horn blares. A light goes on in the café and I freeze in place till it goes off again. I don’t want to draw attention to myself.
I have to make a decision. Do I stay or go?
Lottie isn’t in imminent danger; she’s clearly well-cared-for. My mother is sick and getting sicker. Mum would tell me to stay with my daughter, but if I don’t get to the hospital and fight for her, she could die on a hospital trolley waiting to be seen.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this alone. I’m sotired. Tired of having to be strong, of never allowing myself to doubt, of supporting everyone else no matter how defeated and beaten down I feel. My parents have done their best to look out for me and I wouldn’t have survived the last two years without the support of everyone at the Foundation, but, at the end of the day, when everyone else has gone back home to their lives and families, I’m alone with my grief. Luca was a lousy husband in many ways, but he was a wonderful father. We didn’t agree on much, but we were united in our love for Lottie. No matter our differences, if he’d been here, at least I’d have had someone with whom to share the pain of the last two years, someone who’d understand.
Someone to make me feel just a little less lonely.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text and, as I read it, I realise the decision has been taken out of my hands.
