“Call anytime,” Stefan says.
“You’re sure?”
He nods.
“Thanks.” I take another deep breath. “I should go.” This time, I make it to the door before Hendrix makes me pause.
“You should let Rory know.”
My heart patters. “Why?”
“Because you want to.”
I raise my eyebrows, but Hendrix has returned to working on the calendar.
I shrug and go into the hall to grab my coat and shoes. Hendrix’s words are still ringing in my ears when I reach the tube station. Before I go into the underground, away from mobile phone reception, I do what I’ve wanted to do since Niamh called: text Rory.
8
RORY
Everyone pitches in to help clean up once the bar closes. The sooner the jobs are done, the sooner we all get to leave. It’s been busy for a Wednesday night, mainly because my boss, Irene, had a live band playing a fusion of pop, rock, and Irish folk. It certainly livened up a normally quiet shift.
Once we’re ready to lock up, I head into the back to grab my things. It’s the first time I’ve been able to look at my phone since I started work several hours earlier. My heart stutters when I see I have a text from Callan.
Callan:Niamh has gone into labour. I’m heading to the hospital. I’m going to be a dad.
I curse under my breath. He sent the message over four hours ago. A lot could have happened in that time. Irene hovers and gives me an ‘it’s time to leave’ stare. I send a quick text back.
Rory:Keep me updated. And let me know if there’s anything you need.
I smile at Irene. “Night.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I nod and slip out the back door into the cool night air. She closes and locks the door behind me.
Walking to the nearest tube station, I keep my phone in my hand. It’s daft of me to expect a reply right away. For all I know, the baby’s been born, and Callan has his hands full. Still, I don’t want to miss a message from him when he does text. My signal pips disappear as I go down the long escalator. I spend the tube ride bouncing my knee as if that will make the almost empty train go any faster through the dark tunnels.
A message comes through the moment I’m out of the underground and have a decent signal again.
Callan:No news yet.
I want to reply but don’t know what to say.I’m thinking of you.What sort of message does that convey?I wish I was there.I can’t send that, even if it’s true. I’ve got no business being there. We’ve barely reconnected, yet I’ve felt oddly whole again these last few days, like the part of my heart that has been missing for the last seventeen years has been returned. When did I get so damned poetic?
The house is quiet when I get home. That’s pretty typical. Everyone will be asleep. Do I want to sleep? I should. But I don’t want to miss a message from Callan.
I go to the kitchen to make myself a coffee. The caffeine will help me stay awake. I have to admit Stefan’s coffee is about a thousand times nicer than the instant stuff I drink, but I wouldn’t help myself to his stash. I don’t even know how to work his fancy coffee machine. Instant will do. It’s not like I drink it often anyway. Mostly, I use it to get through the tiredness of a hangover. My stomach churns. Should I think about being drunk casually when my friend is fighting a battle to stay sober daily?
My phone buzzes.
Callan:I didn’t realise it would take this long.
Another message follows hot on the heels of the first.
Callan:That’s probably stupid.
Rory:Not stupid. I wouldn’t have known either.
