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‘Now?’ I ask.
‘Gavin called,’ Heather says.
‘And?’ I say, inhaling sharply.
‘It’s Kayla,’ Heather says. ‘Her temperature is through the roof.’
‘Oh. Oh God,’ I say, processing, trying desperately to catch up.
‘They’ve given her medication,’ Heather continues.
‘Well that’s good,’ I say, feeling relief wash over me. ‘She’s probably picked up some sort of bug. You know yourself there’s all sorts going at this time of year. Half of Molly’s class was out sick last week with the vomiting bug. Try not to worry.’
‘Try not to worry.’ Heather snorts. ‘Would you worry if it was Molly?’
‘Heather I didn’t mean?—’
‘I have to go,’ Heather cuts across me. ‘I shouldn’t have left.’
‘Gavin is with her,’ I say reassuringly. ‘She’s not on her own.’
Heather’s eyes narrow as she stares at me as if I’m something horrible and sticky on the bottom of her shoe. ‘I should always be with her,’ she says.
‘You’re right.’ I nod. ‘You’re her mother. I understand, Heather. I do. If it was Molly?—’
The anger in Heather’s eyes turns to sadness and desperation and my heart breaks for her.
‘I- I- I- I have to go,’ Heather stutters, charging past me and out the door.
‘Heather, you can’t drive,’ I say, stepping out after her. The icy wind nips at every inch of my skin. ‘You’ve had wine.’
Heather drags her keys out of her bag. ‘I need to get to the hospital.’
‘I’ll call you a cab,’ I say.
‘A cab?’ Heather says. ‘How the hell long will that take? I don’t have time. I don’t have any time.’
‘Heather, please,’ I say, grabbing her arms, terrified she’ll do something stupid.
‘Let go!’ Heather shouts.
I don’t.
‘Heather. Heather is that you?’ Jack says, turning back from halfway out the gate. ‘I thought that was your voice I could hear.’
‘Jack, it’s Kayla.’ Heather begins to cry. ‘Something’s wrong. The medicine’s not working.’
Jack hurries forward placing his hands on Heather’s shoulders, steadying her as I let go. ‘Okay,’ he says calmly. ‘Deep breaths. Big deep breaths.’
Heather does as Jack suggests.
‘That’s it,’ he says. ‘Nice and calm. That’s it.’
I step back into the doorway and watch with trepidation. Heather and Jack clearly know each other but I’ve no idea how. And now really doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to ask. Heather must clearly trust this guy because she’s calmed down a lot since he’s taken hold of her.
‘It’s okay,’ Jack says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. ‘I’ve just got off the phone with them.’
What? How would he know?I think.
