Then Sylvie planted a kiss on Rosy’s cheek, and with the grace of a woodland sprite, albeit it one with a catch in her throat and nerves threatening to overtake her, slid out of the car to go and fetch her boy.
Chapter Forty-three
As Sylvie strode swiftly through the open doors of the minor injuries unit her heart was in her mouth again. She meant what she had said; life could turn on a sixpence and she promised a prayer that if Sam was all right, then she would stop taking things for granted and be a lot more grateful for the good she had in her life.
If Sam was all right she would make sure she was always kind to everyone, properly kind, not just slapdash like she was now. She didn’t want to promise to be a saint because that would be an out-and-out fail but she was going to be the best person she could be and she was going to take every opportunity to tell the people she cared about how much she loved them. She’d ring Tom for a start in the morning and tell him how she appreciated him having her at the farm for so long. And that he should hurry up and get a ring on Julie’s finger. And then she would stop being scared and…
‘Hello, hi, I’m Sylvie Williams and I believe you’ve got my son, Sam Williams, here. Can you tell me anything? Is he OK? Can I see him?’ Reaching the desk meant her promises for the future got overtaken by the need to know now about her son.
‘Oh yes, hello, Sam’s mum. We knew you’d be coming. Although your friend who rang ahead to let us know was a little … um… unusual. However, the important thing is that Sam is here, he’s all good, ready to go home almost, sprained wrist but otherwise looking all OK. We’re just waiting for a couple of things to come back and then the doctor will come find you,but it shouldn’t be long. He’s a real daredevil, your boy, from all accounts.’
Sylvie heard herself laugh. It sounded slightly hysterical but then she figured she probably was, and that was fine. For here, in front of her, was a medical professional reassuring her that all was as Rosy had said. Everything was OK. Sam was OK. Now she was going to have to make good on those promises. She just needed to see him with her own eyes, hold him in her arms and possibly never let him go.
‘Can I see him? Is he just around there?’
She indicated past the nurse to the bays behind her that stretched down the corridor. She had been to this hospital more than once over the past few years.
‘Yes, love, just follow the giggles. Your boy hasn’t stopped laughing since he arrived, a real breath of fresh air, and your husband, I know I shouldn’t say but – phew. He’s caused a flutter or two, I can tell you! Not often you get drop-dead gorgeous, attentive and good with kids. You’ve hit the jackpot there!’
‘Oh no, he’s…’ Sylvie didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as the doors swung open and a trolley was wheeled in, a paramedic astride a patient doing CPR, and the nurse rushed from the desk shouting emergency medical codes that Sylvie didn’t understand but was truly grateful for an NHS staffed by people who did.
She wandered down the corridor, fears about having to pull back curtains and disturb people dissipating as she realized the nurse was right – she could hear the giggles of Sam and Ellie and Alex from here.
She rounded the corner and her heart smiled as she saw her boy, all curled up in the crook of Alex’s arm and chuckling away as Ellie did some kind of dance in front of him, shimmying herhips whilst shouting, ‘I say, Rufus darling, that’s really not how people like us behave.’
Alex was wiping tears from his face whilst holding on to her son as tight as tight could be and Sylvie realized, in that moment, that her family wasn’t just Sam. Or indeed Sam with Tom on the periphery. But her family, her core family, was this – Sam, this man and his daughter. These three people here in front of her right now, these were the people she wanted to be her family for ever. All she had to do was put her head above the parapet, find the courage and tell them.
Chapter Forty-four
‘Mum!’ Sam wriggled himself off the bed and gingerly out of Alex’s arms. Alex gulped as he watched Sylvie scoop Sam up and cover his head, neck and shoulders with kisses, being careful not to bang his arm. Sam, for once, didn’t squirm but nestled in for a second, only bringing his head back so he could look at her face as he told her his super-exciting news.
‘I flew, Mum, I flew. And then the doctors said I was very brave, which I was but Alex says I’m never to do it again. It wasn’t Alex’s fault, he was making the… oh, never mind. But I flew like a bird.’
Alex got off the bed and moved forward towards Sylvie. He wanted this bit done as quickly as possible. He knew she was, rightfully, going to be livid at him and was surprised that her face didn’t match her hair yet. But then she was the perfect mother and would keep it together in front of Sam and Ellie, and probably just flay him alive and feed him to bees when there were no children around to witness it.
He couldn’t even begin to imagine the depth of rage she must feel; if it had been Ellie who nearly died he wouldn’t be as composed as she seemed now. Yet she hadn’t flicked him an angry look, not once – and she normally did that pretty speedily for even the smallest offence. Last time he put too much sugar in her coffee she looked as if he had stamped on kittens.
‘He’s OK, Sylvie.’ Alex looked her directly in the eye as he spoke. ‘The doctors have given him the all-clear, and we’re just waiting on a final check before discharge. They wanted tomonitor him for concussion but he’s shown no signs so far and obviously I’ve said we’ll – you’ll – monitor him this evening. It’s quite remarkable that he hasn’t broken anything although they say he’ll probably ache for a few days, but just keep him topped up on basic painkillers.’ He glanced at her as she checked Sam over herself, gently touching and patting him down. Still no apparent killer fury. ‘I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am. I can’t believe this happened. You have no idea… Never mind, that’s not important. The main thing is he’s OK and you’re here. I’m going to chop that tree down as soon as we get home. I did try and call but…’
‘I know, my phone was switched off. I shall never be doing that again, I promise. You must have been beside yourself when you couldn’t get hold of me. Please don’t chop the tree down…’
‘No, don’t. We love the tree,’ Ellie pitched in as Sam added, ‘It wasn’t the tree’s fault.’ Both of them giving Alex their very biggest pleading eyes.
‘Look, from what I can understand you have nothing to be sorry for. He’s fine. Look at him, he’s fine. He thinks he’s a hero so that’s going to need to be addressed…’ at this point she shot Sam a faux-angry brow furrow that looked identical to his real-angry one, ‘and you did your best to get hold of me and then chose to not leave his side until I got here. I’d much rather that than you keep leaving him here alone to try and get hold of me. And besides, you put Marion on the case. You knew she’d get to me. I have nothing to be cross at you for. Accidents happen. And now that this one has, Sam is going to promise me no more tree climbing unless we say it’s OK first.’
This couldn’t be right. She was still smiling at him. Not an I’m-smiling-now-but-I’m-going-to-kill-you-later smile but a real I’m-smiling-with-my-mouth-and-my eyes-because-I-mean-it smile.
He smiled back and she smiled wider, with Sam still tucked under her arm.
‘I’m glad you’re not cross with Daddy. He thought you might be. He didn’t say that but I think he thought it. I know my daddy and I have never seen him scared of anything before. But today he turned green.’
‘Did he?’ Sam said. ‘Green like the Hulk? I didn’t see – can you turn green again? Mum, scare him, go on, see if he can do it again.’
‘No, silly,’ Ellie giggled, ‘he didn’t turn green ’cause he was scared of your mum, he turned green ’cause he was scared when you didn’t move.’
‘But I did move, I flew.’
‘You fell and then you were very still. Like, very still. I cried and I never cry. Do I, Dad? I never cry. We were all scared but look, Sylvie, he’s OK now. And it wasn’t Daddy’s fault, it was Mrs Marksharp’s. She was meant to be looking after us whilst Daddy made the… um… Anyway, it was her fault.’
