Page 102 of The Art of Loving You

‘I’m not leaving until you’ve had those tests.’

‘About that …’ The curtain swished back. A nurse with an apologetic look on her face. ‘It’s getting so late. We’ve a radiographer off and you might not get one today now.’

‘Please. Go,’ I said to Mum. ‘There’s no point us all being here.’

‘I can’t leave until I know the results of your tests.’

‘Even if Libby does have a scan, which is unlikely now, she won’t find out the results. We’re going to try and find you a bed for the night. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful, we’re run off our feet.’

‘You’re only ten minutes away,’ I said to Mum. ‘I can ring you if I need anything. Please. You both look shattered.’

‘I do have a piece of haddock in the fridge for Mabel. Alice?’

‘Yeah, okay. But text the second there’s news. Text even if there isn’t. You’ve got your phone and charger. Use them.’ She hugged me close. ‘Love you, Libs.’

‘Love you too.’

‘Yes.’ Mum patted my hand as though that said it all and funnily enough, it did.

Typically, twenty minutes after Mum and Alice had left I was told I was being taken for a scan after all.

I was met by a nurse with a swinging golden ponytail, the lightness of her hair a contrast to the dark shadows under her eyes.

‘Elizabeth Emerson?’

‘Libby.’

‘I’m Rowan. I just need to ask you a few questions.’

I fought to keep my voice steady as I told her there was no chance I could be pregnant.

Inside the scanning room my nerves increased as I looked at the machine.

‘They’re really loud aren’t they?’ I remembered what I’d heard. ‘People have panic attacks in them.’

‘You’re thinking of an MRI scanner. This is a CT scanner. It won’t surround your whole body so you shouldn’t feel claustrophobic. It’s quieter too. It works on X-rays not radio waves. You just need to lie still. The radiographer will be able to talk to you through a microphone. He might ask you to breathe in, breathe out or hold your breath at certain points. It will be over quickly and completely painless.’ She smiled.

I lay down. Closed my eyes. There was a faint whirring.A buzzing. A few minutes later I was told it was over. I hadn’t felt a thing.

There was no one else in the waiting room. Impatiently I drummed my fingers against the arm of the wheelchair I had again been told to sit in. Footsteps clacked against the floor behind me but it wasn’t Rowan telling me I could leave now. Where was she?

I picked at a stray thread hanging from the hospital gown as I waited. And waited. What was taking so long? My scan finished ages ago. My eyelids drooped with tiredness. I wanted my clothes back. My phone. I’d call Mum and ask her to come and pick me up and with a bit of luck I’d be back at home in half an hour.

The double doors to the scanning room swung shut with a bang. I looked around. Rowan headed towards me.

‘Sorry about the delay. We’ve found a bed for you and a porter will be along to take you to the ward in just a—’

‘I’ve still got to sleep here? Why? I’ve had the scan.’ Despite the warmth a chill slid through me. ‘Was there … something wrong with my results?’

She yawned. ‘Sorry. Double shift today because we’re so short-staffed. The results aren’t immediate. The radiologist needs to analyse the images and write a report. In the meantime we’re keeping you in for observation.’

‘Is there something I should know?’ Dread churned my stomach. I knew how precious hospital beds were. They wouldn’t keep me here unless they thought something was wrong.

A cloud passed across Rowan’s face. ‘It’s late and—’

‘Please. If there’s anything you can tell me.’

‘Try not to worry. The radiologist has to write his report.’

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