‘Well, someone say something,’ Amelia said, directing her gaze at the two besuited men who’d taken up a position at the foot of her bed.
The doctors’ words were quietly spoken, delivered in the most non-sensational way they could hope to find, but their impact was still devastating. I didn’t look at Dr Vaughan or his companion (whose name I’d already forgotten) as they spoke. I kept my eyes on Amelia, to assess her reaction. I was on a hair-trigger, ready to pull the plug on this intervention – because that’s what it seemed like – the moment I felt it was too much for her. And I knew those features too well not to recognise when that moment came, because her face was also mine.
Mystification was the first emotion to land on it, quickly followed by shock and then disbelief, before shock kicked in once again.
‘I died? I actuallydied?’
I was incapable of replying, but thankfully the question was being directed towards the doctors and not me.
‘Technically, yes. In layman’s terms, then I suppose that could be said to be correct.’
‘I wasn’t breathing and my heart had literally stopped beating. That sounds like dead to me.’ Old Amelia wasn’t this sharp or aggressive, but then again old Amelia had never been on the receiving end of such earth-shattering news.
She stiffened suddenly, and I felt the tug of her hand as she tried to pull it free from mine. I wouldn’t let her.
‘You knew? You knew about this, Lexi, and you never told me.’ Her words felt like accusatory bullets and every one of them found its target.
I nodded slowly.
‘Why didn’t you say anything? You told me I’d been unconscious when I was found.’
‘Well, technically unconscious is—’
Amelia cut off the doctor’s words with an angry hiss. Somehow this had stopped being about medical conditions and had crossed over into family loyalty.
‘They said it would be too much for you to cope with,’ I murmured lamely.
She shook her head, and the disappointment in her eyes lasered into my heart.
‘They don’t know me. Youdo. You should have told me everything.’
I hung my head. This was going every bit as badly as I’d feared it would.
‘And do you also know what I was doing on the beach outside my cottage in the middle of the night? Are you keeping that from me too?’ she asked now. Her chin was jutting forward, but above it her lower lip was trembling. The juxtaposition of defiance and defeat was heartbreaking to see.
‘You weren’t found outside your cottage, honey,’ Mum cut in gently. ‘You were on the mudflats.’
Amelia’s eyes widened as she stared at our mother with anEt tu, Brute?expression.
All three Edwards women looked up at the sound of feet shuffling awkwardly on the squeaky lino floor.
‘Perhaps it might be better if we continue this discussion a little later, when you’ve had the chance to absorb things properly,’ suggested Dr Vaughan. No one tried to dissuade them from leaving as they practically scurried from the room.
‘What was I doing on the mudflats?’ Amelia asked, her voice slightly calmer now.
‘We don’t know,’ I told her sadly. ‘I’m not sure we ever will.’
‘Was I alone?’
‘You were when they found you,’ I said, perching on the edge of the mattress and daring to reach for her hand again. This time, she didn’t pull it away. ‘Why do you ask? Have you remembered something about that night?’
She shook her head, and her brow fell into the furrows I imagined it would succumb to a few years further down the line. ‘I wondered if Sam had been there. If he’d come back from America unexpectedly.’
Mum made a small sound that had no name, but I’d been half expecting this, or something very like it.
‘Do you think he did?’ Amelia persisted. ‘Perhaps we argued? Maybe I ran out after him and somehow got lost in the dark.’
She was already painting a picture to fit the facts, even if everything about it was wrong.
