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“Something like that,” she says with a small laugh.
Her dark eyes catch mine. She holds my gaze, her expression unfathomable, until the sound of high heels striding across the ward makes us both jump.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Alistair Whyte?” The voice is loud, bold, and unmistakable. Tilly.
I expect her to irrupt straight into the cubicle, showering all sorts of “how-could-you-be-so-stupid”s onto my head, but the footsteps stop and I hear Josh’s voice.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” she replies.
“He’s in there.”
“Great, thanks.”
“No problem.”
The curtains part and she enters the cubicle. Through the gap in the closing curtains, I see Josh slide his phone into his pocket, a frown creasing his brow. I make a mental note to catch up with him as soon as possible, and brace myself for the onslaught of Hurricane Tilly. But my sister seems a little distracted. She looks back through the gap in the curtains for a bit longer than is strictly necessary.
“Mum?” Anna tugs on Tilly’s jacket, clearly fed up waiting for her mother to notice her.
Tilly snaps back into the room. “Anna, darling, are you ok?”
“I’m fine, Mum. I didn’t fall,” says Anna, sticking another dagger into my heart.
Thanks, darling niece.
Must remember she is seven and not make a mental note to forget her Christmas present at the annual family gathering on Boxing Day. She continues, “I was practising twirls and then Uncle Ali fell on his face. I had a good time.”
“Thanks, kid.” I mutter.
“Well, I’m gladyouhad a good time. Ali, what were you thinking? You aren’t twenty-one anymore.”
Her phone buzzes in the pocket of her woollen coat. She pulls it out and runs a fingertip over the screen. Her smooth forehead gives nothing away, but the gusty sigh she emits tells me all is not well.
“Tell me about it,” I groan.
“I’m sorry, Ali, darling, it is just…Christmas Eve. You know how it is. The kitchen staff are all over the place, and I’ve still got wrapping to do. I’ve had to leave Belle with…”
“Her nanny?”
“Her nanny, yes, but the nanny needs to leave by seven at the absolute latest. It is Christmas Eve, Ali!”
“I know. I’m sorry, Tilly.”
She huffs out a long sigh and wraps her arms round my shoulders.
“Sorry, Ali. I’m just a bit stressed. It is our first Christmas and all of Oliver’s family are coming and I’m just absolutely…”
“Bricking it?”
“Alistair! You are so awful!” She clamps her hands over Anna’s ears, looking askance at my egregious rudeness. I grin at her, enjoying her discomfort in the way only a sibling can. Anna grins at me from within the frame of her mother’s hands. I wink at her. Tilly scowls harder.
“My apologies, ladies,” I offer with mock solemnity.
I steal a glance at Nurse Jones. She has her head bent over my chart, searching for some detail that appears to be eluding her. Her face is a picture of studious professionalism, but the corners of her mouth are twitching suspiciously.
She taps her pen on her clipboard. “Well, Mr Whyte, I think it is time to run your observations again. Mrs…?”
