Istare at the letter,my tears falling onto the paper. I don’t want to smudge it, so I clasp it to my chest, laughing as I cry. I pull my mobile out of my bumbag and go to dial Birdie’s number – sod sleep – I want to hear her voice right now! I cannot believe she has done this! The letter was for me! Chuck Allen was a gigantic ruse and all this time, it wasforme!
Looking at my phone, I notice eight missed calls from Alex. Eight? He must have tried calling while I was doing my stupid yacht jump. Shit. I hopehe’sokay.
I immediately press his number on the screen. He answers after barely halfaring.
‘Alex? It’s Olive! Are you okay? IsDonnaokay?’
‘Olive,’ he says, his voice full of anguish. ‘I’ve been trying to ring you allnight.’
‘My phone has been on silent. I only just saw. What’s thematter?’
Alex’s voice breaks. ‘It’s…Birdie.’
Oh god. Ohgod.No!
‘She… Birdie had a heart attack. She was rushed into emergency surgery lastnight..’
‘Oh my god. Is she okay?’ I hear a funny clicking noise and realise it’s the phone banging against my earring because my hands are shaking so much. ‘Please tell me she’sokay,Alex?’
‘The emergency surgery went well but when they tried to wake her up she… Well, she’s not responding now. She’s in a coma. I’m so sorry,Olive.’
The room swims before me. Bile rises in mythroat.
‘I’m coming back now. Do not leaveherside.’
‘Donna wantsmeto—’
‘I do not care what Donna wants. If you love me at all you will stay by Birdie’s side and you will hold her hand until I getthere.’
Ihangup.
I need to get homerightnow.
OceanofPDF.com
ChapterThirty-Five
Text from Anders:Thinking of you, darlingbestie.
Text from Mrs Ramirez:Chica, be brave for your friend. I am praying for her andforyou.
Text from Seth:Sending my love, Olive. I’m here if you needanything.
Text from Colin:Where did you go? Did you get mymemes?
The second timeI fly on an airplane is much scarier than the first time. Not because of turbulence or oxygen masks falling or flying over the sea. But because the thing I’ve been most scared of this whole time, losing Birdie, is happening. I barely notice as the flight attendants ask me if I want anything. I barely notice anything. My whole head is blurry and tired and absolutely terrified. I don’t even sleep. I couldn’t even if I tried. My body is coursing with adrenaline. I need to be alert, I need to beready.
As soon as I got back to Gramercy Park, Anders organised and paid for me to be on the next flight to Manchester, while Mrs Ramirez gathered my stuff, packed it and made me a cup of chamomile tea which I couldn’t even hold because my hands were tremblingsomuch.
Our goodbyes were hasty and hazy and apart from a quick exchange of phone numbers I didn’t think to say a proper thank you for all the help they’vegivenme.
Eventually, after the longest nine hours of my life, the flight touches down with a rickety bump and I walk into the cool, wet air of Manchester. As I do, New York immediately becomes a memory. A faraway, bonkers, dreamlike thing that happened to someone else. The only thing real to me now is that my best friend is in a coma, and she might neverwakeup.
When I reach Manchester Royal Hospital, I get out of the cab, race through the double doors and up the stairs to Birdie’s ward. I heave my heavy suitcases behind me, tripping over and stumbling as I do so. The ward sister, recognising me, waves me right through toBirdie’sroom.
Heart pounding like a kick drum, I push open the door to find Alex sitting beside Birdie’s bed, holding her hand. I feel a rush of love for him. He pulls me into a hug without sayingaword.
‘Can I go to the toilet now?’ he quips, which makes me chuckle as much as anything can make me chuckle at a timelikethis.
