‘Hurt?’ said Nick. ‘What’s happened? What’s wrong with her?’
‘I think she might have broken her arm,’ said Kitty. ‘She fell off the monkey bars at lunchtime. We’ve called an ambulance.’
‘I’m on my way,’ said Nick, and Kitty could hear it was true from the panting breaths and the distant sound of feet slapping against pavement.
Kitty hung up, ran to Emily, and was cradling the girl’s head in her lap when Nick arrived. He was ashen, covered in grime from the building site, with a smudge of dirt across one cheek and ribbons of black beneath his nails. What struck Kitty most wasn’t the grime. It was the blind panic in his eyes. Nick losing it wasn’t going to help anything.
‘Sit down,’ she told him, and he sat beside her on the asphalt. With one hand stroking Emily’s hair, Kitty curled the fingers of her other hand around Nick’s. ‘She’s going to be OK,’ she said.
‘How can you say that?’ said Nick. ‘Look at her.’
Kitty held his gaze. ‘You need to stay calm, for Emily’s sake,’ she said slowly.
Nick nodded his understanding, but as he bent down to whisper reassurances to his little girl, Kitty saw the tears swimming in his eyes. She let go of his hand and placed her armaround his shoulders. For once, she didn’t care who saw or what people thought. She was Nick’s friend, and nothing was going to stop her from comforting a friend.
The ambulance arrived. The paramedics were kind, calm and efficient as they checked Emily over, helped her up, and carried her to the van, her small body rocked by her sobs.
They were watched by Suzanne Arnold, who turned to Kitty and said, ‘Why don’t you go too?’
‘I can’t go in the ambulance with them. There’s no room.’
‘No,’ said Suzanne. ‘You can follow behind.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Kitty.
‘Yes, Sam can cover your class for the afternoon. Emily and Nick are going to need a friend, and with his parents away and everyone else at work, you’re the obvious choice.’
‘Thanks,’ said Kitty.
‘And don’t feel you have to rush back. They’ll be at the hospital for hours, no doubt, and we’ll manage fine here.’
Kitty nodded her thanks, ran to grab her bag from the classroom, and sprinted to her cottage. It was only after she climbed into the car that she realised a piece of paper and a thick envelope were stuck on her windscreen. With a sigh of frustration, she jumped out and grabbed them.
Her heart stilled as she read the note:Miss me?Barely able to breathe, she opened the envelope. When she tipped it up, a handful of photographs fell into her lap. A sob escaped her lips.
Rae.
All the photographs were of Rae: Rae playing in the park, Rae collecting an award at school, Rae at a birthday party, a party hat on her head and a balloon in her hands.
Rae. Rae. Rae.
The worldaround her blurred as her legs threatened to give way. Then she remembered a different little girl with the injured arm, and the father facing his first parental crisis. Kitty hadspent years putting James first. She was damned if she was going to do so now. Things were different. He couldn’t control her like he used to.
With a deep breath, Kitty climbed into her car, slipped the envelope into the glove box, threw the screwed-up note into the footwell, and set off at speed to the hospital.
Chapter 47
Nick watched in surprise and relief as Kitty sprinted into the A&E department, her hair bouncing wildly around her as she scanned the room. He shifted Emily’s position against him, raised his one free hand, and waved.
Kitty ran towards them, skidding to a stop. She sank down into the seat beside him, which had a moment ago been vacated by a woman nursing a feverish child. ‘Thank goodness you spotted me as I’m not sure I’d have been able to find you,’ she said, gazing around the heaving emergency department and shaking her head.
Nick followed her line of sight, taking in the vast array of injury and illness on display. A drunk stood in the entrance, blood running down the side of his face as he yelled at one of the nurses; an elderly couple were squeezed together on one chair, gripping each other’s hands so tightly their knuckles had turned white. A deathly white teenage girl lay sprawled across four chairs gripping her stomach, her gang of friends hovering around her, and Nick was one of many parents with armswrapped around small children, trying to shield them from the worst of humanity on display in A&E.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, adding hastily, ‘And whatever the answer to that is, I’m eternally grateful.’
‘I couldn’t let you deal with this by yourself.’
It was enough. Nick didn’t need more explanation than that.
