“Tam, promise me. Or I’m getting in the fucking van and driving down there.”
“Ne le faites pas.”Don’t. That’s the last thing I want. I fight the tide, hurling everything I have at it, and finally get a tenuous grip on myself. “I’m good, I swear I won’t drive if I’m messy.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
“I don’t fucking believe you. Or I’d make you swear on my baby girl’s life. But I’m gonna trust you like you’ve always trusted me. Now simmer the fuck down and wait for your man to come home.”
Sab tells me he loves me and hangs up. I’m not naïve enough to believe he goes straight back to sleep, but I can’t do anything about that. I need him and he needs me. It’s how it is.
I heard him, though. I go back inside, change my wet socks, and contemplate my phone before I realise how dark it is in my house. Like, pitch black, even the stand-by light on the TV is out.
Power cut.
It happens round here all the time, especially in winter. But like everything, it seems ominous now, and I fight for the calm Sab’s forced on me and call Bhodi.
No answer.
I call once more, then tap out a message with shaky fingers.
Tam: You’re not home and I’m really fucking worried. Let me know you’re okay?
Damn. I was going for something more subtle, but it has to do. I fire it off and sink onto the couch, bracing my elbows on my knees and folding my hands as much as I can with this stupid fucking cast.
The urge to saw it off sweeps over me.
Bhodi’s disapproval stops me, and I hold onto that. To the fact he’ll be home any minute and the spiked fear lancing my heart will be over.
This is you.
Not him.
I close my eyes, smelling woodsmoke from the burner and the piney scent of the Christmas tree. Breathing deep, slowing my thoughts with every cycle of air. And for a while it works, until Rudy makes me jump out of my skin, barking at something and fucking nothing, as restless by now as I am.
Calm deserts me. I surge to my feet and stride to the window in case I’ve somehow missed Bhodi coming home and slipping into the annex without talking to me. With every light out, he might’ve assumed I was sleeping.
Sound logic, but his car is still gone.
I call him again.
No answer.
Maybe the hospital lost power too and he had to stay.
Another theory that makes perfect sense, but the hospital is in the city, and in all the years I’ve lived here, the power cuts that affect the villages have never extended that far.Natural disaster, then. But that doesn’t make me feel any better, and my phone is running low on battery.
Sab has my power banks. The only sensible thing I can think to do is to drive to the all-night petrol station and buy more. I make myself linger long enough to stamp into my boots, then I’m out the door and behind the wheel, gritting my teeth to keep my promise to Sab.
The streets aredark. Dawn is a couple hours off and I pass few vehicles. I pass the fuckingpetrol station, lit up by emergency lights, and I don’t stop. I keep going, only realising where I’m heading when the hospital comes into view.
My foot falters on the accelerator and the van slows down. My concern for Bhodi is a noose throttling my windpipe, but old ghosts don’t care about that. They smell disinfectant and blood. They hear the angry beep of machines, they hear Sab crying, and the panic monster waiting to strike finds some new friends.
Black spots dance in my vision and my hands tighten around the wheel. I’m not breathing right and I know better than to suck more air in. I let it out, slowly, and battle to keep the van moving.You’ve been here twice recently and nothing fucking happened.
Because of him.
No.
