The security guard took another step closer towards me.
I raised my hand in what I hoped looked like a calming gesture. ‘No. It’s nothing like that. I’m not psychic,’ I assured her, ignoring the memory of all those inexplicable occurrences Amelia and I had shared. ‘I just meant that I think my boyfriend might be coming to see me off.’
‘Well, unless you check in within the next five minutes, you’rebothgoing to be able to wave the plane goodbye,’ said the check-in officer dourly.
I dragged my cases out of the way of the middle-aged couple, who were still regarding me nervously. Perhaps if I phoned The Willows to find out if Nick was there or not, it would silence this stupid feeling that getting on the plane would be a terrible mistake. I didn’t need to speak to him, but at least then I’d know. One way or the other.
I dialled the number of the practice, but while it was still ringing against my ear, I heard something that made me disconnect the call. It was hard to be certain. The terminal was noisy, and the loudspeaker system was far from clear. But I thought I’d heard my name being paged.
My first thought was Nick. Had he come here after all, even though I’d told him not to? Had I somehow sensed his presence close by, andthatwas why I hadn’t wanted to go airside?
I scoured the milling crowds, looking for a tall, dark-haired man wearing glasses that made him look like a comic-book hero. But he was nowhere to be seen. I shifted my weight anxiously from one foot to the other, ears pricked to hear if they would repeat the page.
In my peripheral vision I could see the officer at the check-in desk looking my way as he pointedly tapped his watch. Less than thirty seconds later, the overhead speakers crackled into life once more.
‘Will passenger Lexi Edwards travelling to JFK from London please proceed immediately to the nearest information desk.’
My head shot up. There had been no mistaking it that time. In a world of largely incomprehensible airport announcements, that one had been as clear as a bell.
I have no recollection of crossing the terminal. My pace was probably that of a professional speed walker as I headed towards the information desk. Fifteen metres from my destination, I broke into a run.
‘My name is Lexi Edwards. You were just paging me,’ I gasped out on a garbled string of words that I could tell the woman behind the counter hadn’t caught.
‘Lexi Edwards,’ I repeated, forcing myself to speak more coherently. ‘I’ve been paged.’
Part of me had been convinced that Nick would be standing here at the information desk, but as he clearly wasn’t, my brain was already jumping ahead to worst-case scenarios while the woman rattled my name into her computer. After what felt like an eternity, she looked up from her screen.
‘The message is for you to call your mother.’
Mum? It was Mum? I tried to calm my racing heart by telling it she was probably concerned because I’d forgotten to call her. But was that really a sensible reason for paging someone when they were meant to be on a plane already? As I stepped to a quiet spot beside a pillar to place the call, I knew it was more serious than that. I was all fingers and thumbs as I pulled my mobile from my pocket.
I swiped away the accusatory ‘Three missed calls’ message on my home screen. I should have phoned her back. I fumbled dialling her number, like someone who’d never seen a mobile phone before, much less placed a call on one. It took three attempts before I finally succeeded in putting the numbers in the correct order and making the call. My heart was pounding as I listened to the ring tone trilling in my ear.
‘Lexi.’ It was Mum’s voice, and she was crying.
My knees immediately started to give way. The busy airport was receding as I found myself hurtling back through time to that first, middle-of-the-night phone call in my New York apartment all those months ago. It was the worst kind of déjà vu to hear Mum confirm my greatest fears.
‘It’s Amelia. She’s back in the hospital. They think she’s had a heart attack.’
*
It felt like time had folded back on itself as I travelled from the airport to the hospital. I scarcely allowed the needle on the dashboard of the new hire car to drop below the speed limit throughout the three-hour journey.
I spent most of the drive lost in my thoughts. The question I kept circling back to allowed me no peace.Is this my fault? Did our argument cause my sister’s relapse?
I’d been too shocked to ask Mum anything remotely sensible on the phone, so I had no idea what had happened after I’d left Amelia standing beside her cottage, waiting for Sam. I’d been so absorbed in my own personal drama I could have missed the early clues that she was starting to feel unwell. She had been a little breathless, I remembered now, but I’d put that down to her still being upset with me. And all those naps when I’d thought she’d been avoiding me – were they a symptom of exhaustion because her heart was failing again?
*
It was the same hospital but a different ward to the one Amelia had been on before. I searched the direction signs for the one that would lead me to the Coronary Care Unit. Even the name of the ward scared me.
The hospital wasn’t cold – they never are – yet I was shivering when I stepped into the lift. It felt like every drop of blood in my veins had been replaced with liquid dread. I stared at the numbers on the overhead panel as they carried me up to the seventh floor. Five… Six… the breath hitched in my throat.I’m so frightened.
The first person I saw was Tom. He was bent low, muttering something that sounded menacing to a vending machine that appeared to have stolen his money. He gave it a punishing smack that I’m sure hurt his hand far more than it did the drink dispenser. Either way, it worked, and a bounty of items clattered into the drawer. Tom didn’t take them, for he’d heard my footsteps. He shot a glance down a corridor I couldn’t see.
‘Esme, she’s here. Lexi’s here.’
As though responding to an onstage cue, my mother emerged into the main corridor. Her eyes flew straight to mine and stayed there as we closed the space between us. I thought I was comforting her, but just seconds into the hug I realised it was probably the other way around.
