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“M-my arm and leg, and m-my head.”
“Okay, we’re going to give you something for the pain and take you to the hospital.”
“What about Mam and Jamie?” I look for our blue car, but someone in a green uniform blocks the way.
“They’re going to the hospital too. We’ll look after everyone there, is that okay?”
My eyes well up with hot tears. “I want my daddy,” I cry.
“Shh, it’s okay. We’ll call your daddy, he’ll meet us at the hospital.”
“I want my daddy,” I repeat weakly.
NOAH - TWENTY YEARS LATER
“Wakey, wakey, Noah.”
Something tickles my nose. My breath catches in my throat, and the sudden urge to sneeze hits me. I clutch the heart-shaped locket at my chest, eyes flying open to find identical grey ones staring back at me.
It takes a moment for me to realise I’m not in my own bed, but a stranger’s. My brain slowly pieces together the past twenty-four hours. My uncle Jake, Bailey and I had driven from Cumbria to the Isle of Skye for Richard and Isla’s wedding.
I relax at the sight of my older brother hovering over me. Just for a moment. Then irritation takes over.
“Fuck off, Dick.” I swing my hand out, smirking at the satisfying smack as it connects with his face.
Richard slaps me back immediately, and I yelp at the sting. “How many times have I told you not to call me that? Get up, you’ve got a barn to fix.”
I groan, pulling the duvet over my head. “We got here late last night, you bloody psycho.”
“I’m paying you to work, so as your boss—”
“You’re not my boss. Jake’s in charge, not you.” I yank the duvet down to stare daggers at him. Richard may have hired us to help fix up an old barn for his wedding, but Jake is the only person I’ll take orders from, as he is literally my boss.
I roll over, expecting to see my best friend still asleep next to me, but the other half of the bed’s empty. “Where’s Bailey?”
“You two can’t be sharing a bed still—it’s been twelve years. How’s he not fed up with all your kicking? Or have you finally stopped doing that?”
“No, he still does it,” Bailey answers as he walks into the room carrying two cups. He hands me one and sits on the end of the bed.
“I don’t kick,” I mutter, taking a sip of coffee.
“You do. You might be the worst person I’ve ever shared a bed with,” Richard says.
I glare at him. “Well, you used to snore like a freight train, so if you still do that then I feel sorry for your fiancée.”
“I had a deviated septum, I couldn’t help that,” he snaps. “Besides, I had surgery to fix it five years ago. You’d know if you bothered to keep in touch more.”
Alright, he’s pissed.
Richard moved to the Isle of Skye when I was eighteen. I didn’t mean to lose contact over the years, but once he left, I found it hard to remember to check in with him. Days turned into months, months turned into obligatory Christmases and birthdays at Dad’s. Honestly, I’m surprised he asked me to be his best man.
Instead of apologising like I know I should, my defences shoot up. “You haven’t bothered to reach out to me, either.”
Richard stares back at me, and I pretend not to notice the hurt in his eyes. He tried to keep in contact much longer than I did before eventually giving up.
“Well,” Bailey interrupts, “it’s a good thing we’re here for a month then, isn’t it? You two will have plenty of brotherly bonding time.”
Richard and I both turn to glare at him.
