The doctor returns.
‘How is he?’ we both ask when he’s barely stepped inside the room.
‘He’s lucky.’
‘He’s going to be OK?’ Laurie asks.
‘He’s going to be fine.’
‘I told you, Holly!’
‘Nothing major showed up on the scan,’ the doctor reports, ‘except for several cracked ribs, concussion, bruising on the lung, a dislocated ankle, but no fracture. We’ve pulled it straight, and we’re happy with the position but it’s going to need to go into a cast and then it’s two weeks’ rest and Angus is looking at four to six weeks on crutches.’
‘That’s amazing,’ I say, never believing in a million years I’d think cracked ribs, a dislocated ankle, bruising on the lung and concussion would be worth celebrating. Without thinking I hug him. And so does Laurie.
He blushes before stepping back and smiling nervously. ‘Just doing my job.’
‘Is Angus aware of what’s happening?’ I ask.
The doctor shakes his head. ‘He’s disorientated and confused, but he’s beginning slowly to come round. He’s been calling out your name.’
‘My name?’
‘Yes, he’s been asking for Sophie, so I told him he’d see you before too long.’
‘She’s not Sophie,’ Laurie says.
‘Oh. Are you Sophie?’ The doctor looks at Laurie, clearly confused.
‘No. I’mLaurie. Sophie is Angus’swife,’ she puts him straight as a woman rushes into the room, dressed in a navy and white hospital uniform. She looks at me, and then at Laurie, before focusing all her attention on the doctor. ‘I heard my name. How is he?’
I stand, crushed, as the doctor repeats to Sophie what he said to us, relief flooding her face when he tells her Angus will only have to endure rest and crutches. ‘We’d still like to keep him in for a few days though.’
‘Of course,’ Sophie replies. ‘When can I see him?’
‘Soon. We’ll be moving him up to the trauma ward shortly, where you can all visit.’
‘I’d better go. Thank you for all your help,’ I say to the doctor again, before awkwardly shaking Sophie’s hand.
‘Thanks Holly,’ she says, ‘for being with him.’
‘Laurie’s the one you should be thanking,’ I say, avoiding eye contact, feeling guilty she’s thanking me for anything.If only she knew. I don’t deserve her gratitude.
As Sophie thanks Laurie, I catch her looking at me curiously, trying to join up the dots of our friendship. I wonder how much Angus has told her about us, if anything. I don’t want to hang around to find out. Laurie follows me, tired and keen to go home.
‘Wait!’ Sophie says as I’m halfway out the door. ‘Before you both go… how did this happen again?’ I stop, turn to her. Notice how beautiful she is, even when she’s distressed, with her long, layered dark blonde hair, and I’m drawn to her vivid green eyes, filled with love, kindness and concern. I recall Angus telling me how much he’d fallen in love with those eyes.
‘The three of us had been on a run,’ I explain. ‘We’ve been training for a few months now.’
‘We met at the café,’ adds Laurie.
Sophie nods as if it’s beginning to make sense now. ‘Ah yes, with Scottie. Angus has mentioned you.’
I continue to tell Sophie what happened, keeping it brief. ‘He was unbelievably lucky.’
She sighs. ‘He has nine lives, that man.’
I agree. ‘Tell him I’ll visit tomorrow,’ I say, not sure I will or can.
