11:07.
Connor was meant to be here.
He'd texted earlier that morning:Will finish up and come strait over. Want 2 take U both home.
She'd stared at the message for a long time before replying with a simple ‘OK’.
There was something she needed to show him. The scrunched paper was in her bag, smoothed out and tucked into the side pocket with her lip balm and a pack of wipes. There was another letter right next to it.
Headteacher's Office
Park Road Sale Primary School
It still brought vague memories of her childhood. It had been her primary school as a child. There had been big trees out front, and the playground always smelled faintly of tarmac and crisps. She had filled out the application form a week ago while her dad hovering anxiously, spectacles precariously perched on the end of his nose.
"You're sure?" he'd asked, his voice thick with a mixture of happiness from having them back with him and sorrow for how her little family was about to fall apart. "About moving in, love?"
"I can't stay there," she'd said. "How can I stop worrying about Coral after this? Matilda had her claws dug into our lives and his mumcruises around on her broom. Kayla called only to scream at me and I blocked her at the speed of light.” She'd swallowed. "Coral deserves better than me constantly looking over my shoulder. And I ‘d rather be alone rather than be with someone is not one hundred percent sure that I am the one he wants."
He'd nodded, eyes suspiciously shiny. "Then we'll make it work. We'll put a bed in your old room for Coral. We will paint the walls pink with unicorns farting rainbows. We'll sort the damp in the back bedroom. I don't care. Just... come home."
She'd pressed the send button to submit the form that afternoon. Yesterday, the email had come in.We are happy to offer Coral Ashbourne a place...
Her plan had been to show Connor the letter in the quiet of the ward, to lay it between them like a neutral object and have that conversation.
I'm moving in with Dad. I've already accepted a school place for her. I'll never stop you from seeing her, but I can't live with you.
That was the script, in her head at least.
But now it was past eleven, the discharge paperwork done, the nurse hovering with a plastic bag of medication and leaflets about burn care, and Connor was nowhere to be seen. Yet again.
Same old Connor,she thought bitterly.Late, distracted, firefighting somewhere else. Probably has his head up 'fragile' Matty's arse.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and unlocked it. Seven missed calls lit up the screen.
Three from her bestie, Chiara, the most recent being forty minutes ago. One unknown number. One from her dad. Two from the workshop landline.
She hadn't even heard it. At some point, she'd put it on silent to stop the constant vibration whenever another spam text came through.
Guilt crawled up her spine for blaming Connor prematurely. She thumbed open Chiara's messages, scrolling quickly.
Connor's rung me twice. What the hell is going on, Fern?
Tell me you're not forgiving him already.
Call me. I swear, if he smooths-talks his way out of this, I'm marching down there myself to set his crusty arse on fire..
Fern blew out a breath and locked the screen again. Chiara's fury had been a steady background noise all week, like a radio left on in another room. It wasn't that her friend was wrong. It was just exhausting.
She knew there was a change in Connor. She'd seen it in the way he stayed every night, in the new hollows under his cheekbones, in the way he watched Coral like he was afraid she might wink out of existence if he looked away.
But knowing he felt different wasn't the same as trusting him.
They'd barely spoken beyond Coral-related logistics. She'd stayed on her side of the room, on the window seat or in the uncomfortable visitor's chair, keeping their exchanges clipped and to the point. She avoided standing too close to him. Avoided his eyes whenever possible. Avoided any brush of hands when they passed cups of tea back and forth.
Connor loved to hug and cuddle and she could see him having to hold back. But he hadn't dared to push.
"Mum-mum?"
