Page 34 of Lost in Translation
‘Alastair’s up next,’ said Sadie. ‘It’s a shame none of our darling husbands could make it, but Rick was adamant he couldn’t escape some uber-important meeting. What about Martin, Pamela? What’s his excuse?’
Pamela mumbled something about him being busy too. Charlotte quickly checked her phone, just in case she’d missed a message from Dom. Nothing. She’d texted him about the football tournament, expecting at least a word or two of encouragement for the boys. Sighing, she put her phone away and got to her feet as the match started.
‘How are you ladies?’
Charlotte started at the familiar deep voice of Jürgen behind her. Turning, she shielded her eyes from the strong sun and smiled.
‘All good. It’s nice to see Marcus doing his bit. Is he an avid footie fan?’
‘A devoted supporter of Man United,’ he replied. ‘I do not understand why, and I’m more of a rugby person myself. Not that Germany is renowned for rugby playing.’
Sadie patted the edge of the rug, signalling that Jürgen should sit down. Charlotte hesitated then budged up to make more room, but Pamela remained fixed in place, her back ramrod straight and eyes flashing daggers in Jürgen’s direction.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I will stand, as my back is a little tender today. An old sports injury. I fear I may never get up again if I sit down!’
Charlotte watched as he made his way to the far side of the field. Sure enough, he seemed to walk awkwardly, in a way unlike his normal purposeful stride.
‘Right, the match has started. Come on, lads and lasses!’ Sadie stuck her fingers in her mouth and emitted a high-pitched whistle. Pamela winced and rubbed her ears.
‘Alastair’s pretty nifty with a ball,’ said Sadie admiringly. Charlotte nodded, pride swelling inside her as her eldest dodged and weaved his way around the opposing team. He might lack the courage and confidence of his younger brother, but he always gave one hundred per cent.
At that moment, Charlotte’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it: a text from Ruth. But before she could open it, Sadie let out a shriek and got to her feet. ‘Oh, heck. Alastair’s on the ground!’
Charlotte leapt up too, her heart thumping at the sight of her son sprawled on the grass. Within seconds, a cluster of bodies blocked her view. She raced towards the scene, Sadie following in her wake.
‘Let me through, please.’ Charlotte pushed past Alastair’s teammates and knelt down by his side. His face was ashen, and his left arm hung loosely by his side. The head of sports, Miss Liddy, crouched next to him, speaking quietly and urging the others to give him space.
‘He took a bad tackle, Mrs Egerton,’ she said. ‘His legs got tangled, and he landed badly. I’m not a doctor, but I think his arm might be broken.’
Another staff member appeared with a makeshift sling. They gently manoeuvred Alastair upright and positioned it to support his arm.
‘Does it hurt, sweetheart?’ Charlotte stroked his other arm, her tears welling up and threatening to spill over.
Alastair shook his head, although he was trembling like a leaf.
‘He’s in shock,’ said Miss Liddy. ‘You need to get him to hospital for an X-ray.’
Charlotte looked up at Sadie. ‘I’m not sure where it is.’ She had a vague idea, but the thought of driving filled her with horror. A tight bubble of nausea rose in her throat, and she wobbled her way upright.
‘I’ll take you,’ said Jürgen. Charlotte hadn’t realised he was even there. ‘It’s only ten minutes away, and I can help with getting Alastair admitted and the formalities.’
‘I’ll take Robson home with us,’ said Sadie. ‘From experience, you could be waiting for hours.’
Jürgen and Miss Liddy helped Alastair to stand up. He pulled his T-shirt up and sucked on the collar, his face still grey-green.
‘But what about Marcus? Don’t you have to take him home at the end of the tournament?’ Charlotte felt useless, frustrated at her own timidity and annoyed that Dom wasn’t around to help.
‘He can cycle home,’ Jürgen reassured her. ‘It’s not far and his bicycle is here.’
‘It’s no problem, Mrs Egerton.’ With the match halted, Marcus had joined the group and now stood next to Alastair. ‘I hope you’re not planning on taking up any other dangerous sports,’ he said to him, with a wink. ‘Perhaps leave scuba diving for another day, eh?’
Alastair gave a wan smile, no doubt recalling the skiing episode.
Robson tugged at Charlotte’s skirt, his face filled with concern. ‘Mummy, is Alastair going to be OK?’
‘He’ll be fine, darling,’ she replied. ‘You carry on here, and Sadie will take you back to their house.’
‘I’ll drive him home when you give me the word,’ said Sadie. ‘Now off with you, and good luck.’ She hugged Charlotte, and whispered, ‘No hanky-panky with the hunky German while you’re counting the hours in casualty.’
