It seemed like a different day.
‘Would you like me to run you to the hospital?’ Ed asked. ‘We could take some stuff for your dad; I expect he’ll be kept in overnight. Maybe grab some bits for your mum, too. I doubt she’ll want to leave your dad’s side till she knows he’s okay.’
Florrie nodded into his chest, her tears brewing again. ‘That’d be good.’ There’d never been any question in her mind about joining her mum, to offer support, to be there when news ofher father arrived. She couldn’t bear the thought of her mum being on her own with the risk of receiving a devastating diagnosis.
‘In that case, why don’t we head home now? I can drop you off at your parents’ house en route so you can gather some stuff together while I head back to Samphire Cottage and take Gerty for a walk. I’ll pick you up when that’s done. Sound okay?’ he asked, stepping back from their embrace, his hands sliding to the top of her arms as he looked into her eyes.
‘It does.’ She gave him a watery smile, peering through her tear-stained glasses. How had such a wonderful evening ended up with her dad being in hospital? And though it was by far the worst, it wasn’t the only thing that had gone wrong that night: the window featuring the bride and groom had been egged.
Florrie hurried down the brightly lit corridor towards the intensive care unit of Middleton-le-Moors hospital, the smell of disinfectant curling around her nose, an overnight bag for her mum in her hand. Ed was taking long strides beside her, the soles of his shoes squeaking against the floor. He was carrying a bagful of stuff for Charlie.
‘It’s this way,’ she said, spotting a sign for the ITU reception desk and taking a sharp left. Moments later, they pushed open the door of the waiting room where her mum was perched on the edge of a chair, worrying her bottom lip. ‘Oh, Mum.’ It tugged at her heart to see her usually cheerful mother look so anxious.
Paula jumped up and rushed over, throwing her arms around her daughter. ‘Oh, Florrie, lovey, I’m so glad to see you; you too, Ed, sweetheart. Thanks for coming.’ Her eyes were wet with tears, and she squeezed her daughter as if she’d never let go.
‘How is he, Mum? How’s Dad?’ Florrie struggled against her own tears. ‘Is he going to be okay?’
Paula rubbed Florrie’s back and released her from her hug. She sniffed and swiped her fingers under her eyes. ‘I hope so. They’re doing some tests, lots of them, said something about an MRI scan,what with him being unconscious for a while. They want to make sure he hasn’t sustained a serious brain injury.’ Her bottom lip wobbled at that, and Florrie reached for her hand. ‘He came round in the ambulance; was a bit confused, bless him. I have to say, the medical team have been amazing; so kind, too. One of them even made me a cup of sweet tea, said I looked shocked. He wasn’t wrong.’
‘Why don’t we sit down? You look shattered, Paula.’ Ed guided her to a chair. ‘I’ll go and grab you both a cup of tea while Florrie tells you what’s in the bags.’
‘That’d be good, thanks, lovey.’ Paula gave him a weak smile.
Once Florrie had finished explaining what they’d packed, conversation switched to what had happened when the ambulance had arrived at hospital. ‘It all felt surreal, like it was happening to someone else and it wasn’t your dad getting wheeled along on a trolley, his lovely face as white as a sheet, God love him.’
A sound from the door made Florrie look up to see Ed through the narrow pane of glass. He appeared to be struggling to open the door. She jumped up and pulled it open for him.
‘Here we are,’ said Ed, a cardboard cup of tea in each hand. He set the drinks down on the table and pulled a bottle of water for himself from the back pocket of his jeans.
‘Thanks, lovey,’ said Paula, reaching for a cup.
‘Yeah, thanks, Ed.’ Florrie pressed her lips into a smile. She’d been waiting for Ed to return so he could hear what she had to say, too; save her mum having to repeat it. ‘So, what happened, Mum? How come Dad ended up in hospital? We just heard a load of shouting and then a loud bang followed by a scream? Did you see any of that? Is that why you went out?’
Paula rubbed her brow with her fingers. ‘Well, you probably noticed your dad and me didn’t make it into the reading room.’
Florrie nodded. ‘We did.’
‘The reason for that was because he’d started to feel a bit dizzy, what with his labyrinthitis, and didn’t want to draw attention to himself in a roomful of people, so we decided to stayput and listen from there.’ Paula took a sip of her tea, wincing at the heat. ‘Anyroad, we became aware of raised voices outside, followed by several thuds that sounded like something hitting the windows. Just after that, the voices got louder so I told your dad I was going to take a look. Well, you know what he’s like. He tried to stop me, said it might not be safe, but anyroad, I told him I’d come straight back in if anything looked dodgy.’
‘You should be careful, you know, Mum, especially if there’s a chance Dodgy Dick and his cronies are out of prison.’
‘Florrie’s right, Paula,’ said Ed.
‘Trust me, lovey, Dodgy Dick and the like are the least of my worries right now.’ The look she gave Ed puzzled Florrie, and she wondered if he’d noticed it, too.
‘Oh?’ Florrie couldn’t imagine what she was about to hear next.
‘So, when I get outside, I see this tall woman with one of them big cartons of eggs in her hand, and she’s yelling at a man who seems to be telling her to stop – no idea who he was; I’d never seen him before, maybe a holidaymaker. Anyroad, she chucks a couple of eggs at him and he scarpers off down the road with egg running all down his head and his arm as he’s still shouting at her to stop.’
‘What?’ Florrie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Who does that sort of thing? Surely, that’s classed as an assault?’
‘Stella’d be able to tell you,’ said Ed.
‘Mmm, she would,’ Florrie agreed, picking up her tea.
Paula heaved a sigh, her eyes still puffy from crying. ‘But they weren’t the only people out there shouting.’ She paused as if thinking how best to present what she had to say next. She pulled an apologetic face at Ed before continuing, ‘I’m afraid your parents were there, too. They were having a huge argument, and this tall woman somehow seemed to be involved in it as well; they were all really going for it, hammer and tongs, as they say – like you heard for yourself. I’m really sorry, lovey.’
‘My parents? But I thought my father was still in London, and that my mother had gone to join him.’
