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“Dylan’s phoning an ambulance,” Hattie says. She’s standing above the rest of them, where they are all crouched around Susan, and her face is pale. “But, Kristen, what are you—?”
“It’s true,” Mel says, finding her voice at last.
Finn is staring at her. They’re all staring at her.
“You knew?” Finn’s voice is a whisper, but in it Mel hears the pain, the disbelief. The damnation. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”
“I’ll go and see if Dylan has got an ETA on the ambulance,” Hattie says, her voice high, panicked.
“Ambulance?” The pub owner is back, with a first-aid kit in one hand, a cushion in the other. “They’ll take a while to get out here. You’d be better off driving—St. Andrews is the nearest big hospital.”
Through all this, Susan says nothing. She just sits there, holding her water, looking down at her lap. She looks impossibly vulnerable, impossibly sad. And, God, Mel’s heart aches for her. This isn’t how she wanted her children to find out—Mel knows that.
“Fine,” Mark is saying. “Thank you. You hear that, Mum? Let’s go.”
“I’m fine, love,” Susan says. “Honestly, I just need a sit-down.”
“You do not just need a sit-down.” He grabs his mum’s elbow, helps her to her feet. “We’re going. Now.” Mark says nothing to Kristen as he steers his mum outside, Kristen gathering up Freya and all their belongings from the table. Everyone follows, apart from Dylan, who is already outside, hanging up his phone.
“They say they’ll be—” he begins.
“We’re driving,” Mark says, his voice on the verge of a snap. He unlocks his car. “Get in, Mum.” It’s a command, but his voice is a little gentler now.
“Is she okay?” Kristen asks, a little out of breath as she pulls Freya toward the car. “What can I do? Susan? What do you need? Freya, get into your booster, okay?”
Mark doesn’t look at his wife, but Susan waves a hand in Kristen’s direction, closing her eyes, tiredness seeming to seep into every part of her. “Try to calm down, love, stress isn’t good for the baby.”
Another beat of silence around their small group.
Then, from Mark, “The baby?”
Susan winces, eyes opening. “Oh, it’s just an expression.”
“It is not just an expression.” Mark is looking at Kristen like he’s seeing her for the first time.
Kristen wets her lips, tucking her red hair behind her ear. “Let’s talk about it later, okay?”
“What baby?” Freya asks, ignoring the instruction to get into the car. “Who has a baby?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” says Mark darkly.
Finn scrapes his hand through his hair. “Jesus. Let’s just deal with one thing at a time, shall we? I’ll come in your car,” he says to Mark.
Mel swallows. “I can go with Hattie and—”
“No,” Finn snaps, cutting her off. “You can get the car back to the rental. The address is in the glove box.” And Mel knows he is shutting her out, stopping her from going with the rest of them. Blaming her, because she knew and didn’t tell them. Mark isn’t forbidding Kristen from coming to the hospital, but then she’s married to Mark, bound to the family—Mel is not.
“Okay,” Mel says, her voice small. She can think of nothing else to do, to say, as she watches them bundle into the car, Finn not looking at her as he gets into the backseat next to Kristen. She says nothing as Hattie offers her a quick squeeze on the arm before getting into her car with Dylan to follow them to the hospital.
She’s still standing there as both cars leave the pub car park. She is numb, cold. And all she can do is watch as they drive away, wondering if she’s lost them forever.
Chapter Thirty-one
Mel sits in the car outside the rental place. But it’s Boxing Day and, of course, it’s closed. The car is switched off and cold is seeping in, her hands turning numb in her lap. It’s dark outside, and she’s in the middle of the city center, with no idea what to do now.
She’s called Finn repeatedly but hasn’t gotten through. Either he’s busy or he’s ignoring her—and her money is on the latter. She left two different voicemails, and when that didn’t work, she texted Hattie. She rereads the message exchange now.
How is she?
