Page 97 of The Flowers of Bay C
I give him the briefest outline of our unlikely tale, about the beach and how we were stranded, and Dodgy Caravan Dude. He stares round at me, aghast, when I tell him about what was in the caravan. ‘Holy Mary, woman.’
‘So you see, I think we’re done. And you’re the only one who can help us now.’
This new audacity tastes foreign and enticing. Just yesterday I’d have said yes, that’s fine, please don’t put yourself out, sorry to be such a pain. But I’m digging up something new today, and it feels a bit like freedom.
Chapter 28
Cal likes to hum to himself. He’s humming as he pulls the bus into the entrance road to the hospital and hums louder as the packed-out car park looms up to meet us. Cars abandoned everywhere, on verges and double-parked, angled steeply up banks and engulfed in snowdrifts. It’s chaos out there, with visiting hours plus the weather leading to utter carnage, drivers inching their cars around hunting for spaces, getting into arguments, shouting at the car park attendant. Cal is already stressed after hitting town in rush hour, the streets clogged with snow-pelted traffic, people just wanting to get home into the warm.
‘No way I’m getting through that,’ he says, shaking his head.
‘You don’t have to go through it.’ I point at the main entrance, to the side of the car park, where taxis linger, where people fight over disabled parking bays and an elderly lady with a walking frame stands alone, shivering. ‘Just go round to the main entrance and drop us there.’
‘I can’t block that.’
‘Kane did,’ I say.
‘I don’t care what Kane, whoever the jeff he is, did. I can’t block that entrance.’
I exhale. ‘I don’t think there’s much choice.’
He puffs out his cheeks and then shrugs as he slams the bus back into gear, the ancient system squealing back at him. The bus leaps forward, like a car driven by a learner who doesn’t quite get the clutch yet, and then crunches through piled up snow and slush as it limps down the entrance road. ‘I’m in so much trouble.’
‘You’re doing a good thing,’ Kat says. I look round at her and notice how her face is fading into grey.
‘Hmm,’ Cal says.
A car beeps its horn as Cal manoeuvres the great beast around it, narrowly avoiding taking out its wing mirror. ‘Idiot’s going the wrong way,’ he mutters. He swings round the entrance curve and pulls to a halt behind an idling taxi, the bus juddering as he slams the brakes hard. We all jerk forward, and Kat holds tightly to Barbara. Jodie lurches awake, almost tumbling from her seat, and sits up, rubbing at her hair. ‘What’s happening? Where are we?’
‘We made it,’ Kat says. ‘We’re back.’
Jodie stares round, wide-eyed, taking in the lights of the entrance, the great glass sliding doors, the huddle of smokers gazing up at us in the bus with weary and curious eyes. ‘No way.’
‘Yes way,’ Cal shouts from his cab. ‘Your hospital, my ladies.’
He seems just a little more relaxed, now he’s parked up, just on the edge of fidgety, his hands still clamped tight around the wheel.
Jodie starts clapping and then Kat joins in and then the rest of us, even Barbara from under her orange nylon folds. Snowy shifts and mewls then pushes his little pink nose into Barbara’s cheek.
Cal rubs his face and smiles shyly round at us. ‘No need for that, now.’ I’m sure he’s blushing beneath that great salt-and-pepper beard. ‘Now. Let’s get you out of here and up to your beds.’ He swings out of his cab as the bus doors hiss open, and gazes around at us, sprawled out with little resource left to get ourselvesfrom here to the ward. He scratches his chin. ‘Give us a sec.’ He bounds down the step and disappears into the main entrance.
‘What do you think they’ll say?’ I say to Kat.
‘Well, they’ll all be there, won’t they, our visitors I mean. Nate’ll be there and who knows else for me, I’m guessing Jake’ll be there for you, and Amina’s lot, in her ward, I guess. Will Brian be there, Violet?’
Violet nods. ‘He’ll be there and he’ll be worried.’
‘He’ll say you’re a disgrace,’ Jodie says, and Violet’s mouth tightens for a second, and then relaxes just a tiny bit.
‘It’s Sister Harris I’m worried about,’ I say. ‘She’ll be livid when she hears.’
‘Lucky she’s not on today,’ Jodie says.
Kat stands gingerly, gripping hold of one of the bars, her legs wobbling. ‘We should get off this old thing. Anyone else feel like their legs won’t hold them?’
Mmm, we all say.
‘Wait. Look.’ Jodie points out of the window. It’s Cal with a wheelchair, and behind him is a porter with another wheelchair. ‘He’s a hero, this Cal dude. He’s like… I don’t know, like that hot guy fromTransporter.’
