Page 41 of The Flowers of Bay C
It’s around the tenth step where the world starts to spin and my stomach churns as though I’m onOblivionand going over the big drop. Not that I’ve had energy for Alton Towers for years.
‘Woah there.’ Dan grips hold of me as I sway, blood rushing to my head and pounding at my eyes.
‘I feel… faint…’
The world is black.
I’m collapsed on the stairs, Dan beside me, my head in my hands. ‘That’s it. Keep your head bent low. Give it a few seconds. Okay there?’
I breathe out. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be a daft bint. You have nothing to apologise for. I should probably have realised you still have sedative in your system.’
I breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out.
‘Better?’
‘A bit.’
Dan waits with me in the frozen silence of the stairwell, the occasional door slamming above somewhere, clanging through the hollow air, raised voices echoing through from the corridor. The institutional smell of lunch weaves around us, that particular hospital food smell, all boiled vegetables and overcooked meat.
My stomach lurches, and suddenly I need Jake and my home so bad I gasp.
When we get back to the ward I flop down on my bed, beaten. When will I ever have the strength to get out of here?
‘Never mind,’ Dan says. ‘Next time. You did really well, getting that far, you’ll be fine.’
‘Sorry I fainted on you.’
‘Will you stop apologising, woman?’
I lie back on my pillows and glance around the bay. Amina is propped up reading a book, all serious eyes and rigid back. Kat is asleep. Barbara is on her chair, staring at nowhere in particular, feet shod in her maroon slippers. Jodie isn’t here. Violet’s curtains are closed and low voices emanate from her cubicle. ‘Violet, flower, let’s get you sat up for a bit of lunch, shall we? You’re all clean and sorted now. It’s okay, lovely. It’s okay.’
I think Violet is sobbing.
???
Jake scrapes the chair noisily on the polished floor. ‘Oops, mum, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘Hi, Jake.’
‘Nan asked me to tell you to get well soon,’ he says, clearly uncomfortable, shifting in his seat.
‘Did she?’
‘Yeah. She seemed to mean it.’
‘Right.’
‘And Grandad too. I mean, he didn’t say it or anything, but I can see it in his eyes, like, when I’m telling them how you are and all that.’
‘Mmm.’
‘Honestly, Mum. They do love you.’
‘Okay.’
I know they do, in their own way. We are our own little family, Jake and me, us against the world, but although my parents haven’t been easy, they’ve been there for me, taking care of Jake when I am in hospital, sending him presents for Christmas and birthdays, keeping up some semblance of happy families.
