if she’s still on the scene, somehow. And then I have to remind myself that it’s nothing to do with me, because I’m with James, and Alex can do what he wants. He’s a friend, that’s all. And there’s no reason at all why a friend wouldn’t send a text to ask if everything’s okay, is there?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jess
2nd October
‘We’ve got a meeting at half eleven.’ Camilla, operations director, pops her head over my desk. The open-plan office is buzzing with noise and industry because one of the biggest publishing trade fairs – Frankfurt – is coming up, and we have several big books going on sale. I’ve been so wrapped up in work that I haven’t seen James all week, and we’re supposed to be going to the cinema straight after work tonight. I secretly wonder if he’d notice if I just had a two-hour nap instead of watching the film. Even though I got home late from work and planned to go straight to bed, everyone in the house stayed up last night in the kitchen playing a killer game of cards, sharing a bottle – well, several – of wine and ordering pizza at midnight. I’ve had maybe four hours sleep, everything aches, and my head feels like someone’s used it as a punchbag. When my phone buzzes on my desk, I pick it up, fully expecting it to be James, but it’s my mother.
Nanna Beth not so well. Call me.
It feels like my stomach has just dropped through the floor. I put the phone back on the desk face down so I don’t have to see the message, and stand up automatically, pushing my chair back. My hands are on the desk, my knuckles stark white. I take a shaky breath.
‘Jess,’ says a voice behind me kindly. ‘You okay?’
I turn around, still holding on to the desk. It’s Camilla.
‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you feeling okay?’
‘Just had a message to say my Nanna Beth isn’t feeling well.’ I look at the photo montage of the two of us on my desk. Pictures of me when I was a tiny baby perched on her knee, another of us arm in arm when I was ten and got a pair of roller skates for Christmas. There’s a photo of her standing at Cardiff Uni the day I graduated, with Becky grinning in the background. I feel a bit sick and sit back down in the chair.
‘Let me get you a glass of water,’ says Camilla.
I look at the clock. It’s twenty past eleven. Almost time for our meeting.
‘Here you are.’ She hands me the water, and – oddly – a tissue. ‘Now, what can we do?’
I shake my head. ‘We’ve got a meeting at half past.’
‘You don’t need to be in a meeting,’ Camilla says, gently. ‘Do you need to go home and see her?’
I turn the phone over and press the home button, looking again at the stark words lit up against a background of me, Gen and Sophie in ski clothes, laughing in the snow at New Year. I feel sick with guilt that I’ve moved to London and haven’t been to visit Nanna Beth as often as I should have.
‘I think maybe I do.’
‘Okay. Leave it with me. We can give you some leave. Now why don’t you get home and sort things out, pack a bag, and get on the train down to – where is it?’ ‘Bournemouth,’ I say, my voice sounding strange and faint and far away.
As soon as I get off the train I’m aware of the sea not far off. There’s something in the air – an openness in the big sky that stretches out over our heads – and of course the ozone smell of the beach. I jump in a taxi, and head straight to the hospital with my overnight bag over my shoulder.
Going home for a few days because Nanna Beth isn’t well, I’ve texted Becky. Her reply – I check the clock, realising she’s probably just finished work – flashes up as I’m sitting in the taxi.
You poor chick. Send her my love. Keep me posted.
I will, I reply.
When I get to the hospital I stand for a moment, not sure where to go. It crosses my mind – irrationally – that if Alex was here, he’d know. I head for the reception desk at A&E and they tell me she’s been triaged and is in a cubicle. I follow the receptionist’s instructions and