Page 111 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

My stomach unclenched in relief. ‘Oh, yes, she’s doing much better. Thanks so much for your help. Sorry, it’s been a crazy night and I really need to get this medicine upstairs to her.’ I lifted the heavy drugstore bag – I’d stocked up on all manner of vitamins and remedies as well as the products the doctor had recommended – to underline my point.

‘That’s good to hear – we were so worried. Umm, so before you go, we need to log the incident for legal reasons. So, if you wouldn’t mind getting your mom to fill in this form?’

She held out a sheet of paper and a pen towards me, but I didn’t take either of them.

I frowned. ‘Legal reasons?’

‘Yes, it’s just that we need to make sure the hotel isn’t… liable for any injuries or illnesses.’

‘Don’t worry, she ate some poisonous berry things she found in Central Park. The only person Mum could possibly sue is herself.’

‘Sure, it’s just that, since we were the ones who called the ambulance, and she fell ill within the premises, we really need to—’

‘Yeah, okay,’ I said, taking the form and shoving it into the drugstore bag. ‘We’ll drop the form off in the morning when we check out.’

I walked to the lifts without looking back. I found Mum and Anneka snuggled up in bed watching telly in their PJs – I hadn’t even noticed that there was a TV in the room until now.

‘I come bearing medicinal gifts,’ I said, kicking off my shoes and tipping the contents of the bag onto the foot of the bed. ‘I chatted to the pharmacist and, first things first, let’s get this activated charcoal into you, stat.’

I gave Mum a couple of ominous-looking black capsules, which she washed down with a gulp of Gatorade that I’d picked up from a bodega on the way back to the hotel.

‘Right. Next: where the fuck are these fucking beans or pods or whatever the hell they’re called?’

With effort, Mum reached over to open the drawer in the bedside table and extracted a small, black pouch, chucking it in my direction. I loosened the pouch’s drawstring and tipped a dozen or so dark-coloured beans – which looked worryingly like the charcoal capsules – into the palm of my hand.

‘Jesus, Mum, were you planning on exchanging them for a cow like Jack and the friggin’ Beanstalk?’ Anneka said, still curled up in a foetal position with her head resting in Mum’s armpit.

Mum snorted, which fast turned into a groan, and she slunk back down under the covers.

I put the beans back in the pouch, tied the string into a triple knot, and placed the pouch into the bin, the plastic liner of which I also triple knotted, as if the toxin was airborne.

‘Right, they’re gone. And, for the record, I’m never going fucking foraging again. Next up: electrolytes.’

We spent the next ten minutes encouraging Mum to drink as much enriched fluid as she could bear, before she finally snapped.

‘Please, both of you, stop watching my every move! I’m not a newborn bloody baby. I’m starting to feel a lot better, as it happens.’

I cleared the pharmaceutical debris from the bed, turned off the overhead lights and climbed in with them, enjoying the physical proximity for once. After watching a made-for-TV movie for a while – including a crazy amount of ad breaks – Anneka gasped and turned to me. ‘Shit, I totally forgot to ask how the wedding went.’

‘Oh. Yeah. Not great.’

‘I’m sorry for ruining your night, Flo,’ Mum murmured, half-asleep.

‘Nah, it went downhill before I heard you were in hospital. Funny story actually: I found out that Ethan had also been due to get married just a couple of months ago, but he called it off not long before the wedding, just like Will did. Can you believe it? Anyway, so that’s all done and dusted.’

‘Sorry, Flo. At least you got a new outfit out of it, hmm?’ Anneka said drowsily.

‘I’m not sure the blisters on my feet agree with that assessment,’ I said, allowing my eyes to close.

‘I think it probably happens more than you think,’ Mum mumbled.

‘What does?’ I asked, stretching my entire body.

‘Relationships falling apart in the run-up to a wedding.’

‘Well, I don’t know anyone else it’s happened to,’ I said. ‘Do you, Anneka?’

‘Nope,’ she said, through a yawn.