Page 104 of Prove You Wrong

A flash of anger and indignation passes through me as he walks towards Josie. His eyes are fixed on her, so he doesn’t notice me, or my scowl.

‘Josie?’ His voice is rough, strained. ‘I came as soon as I could.’

They clash into each other and he hugs her to him, much like Nate had hugged me an hour ago.

I don’t hear what Josie is murmuring to him but he shakes his head.

‘Scottie Mullins? Is that you?’ Janet sits forward, magazine abandoned.

‘Hey, Mrs. Clarke. I’m so sorry to hear about Jamie.’

‘Stop with the Mrs. Clarke crap and come and give me a hug. David,’ she nudges her husband, ‘it’s Scottie, Marcus’s friend.’

A jangly shiver passes over me as I process what they’re saying. Scott was friends with Josie’s older brother?

And Nate had said his brother had lost someone…

Pennies and pounds and whole rolls of notes start dropping as I realise Scott must be Marcus’s best friend. He was there the night he died. I recall a quiet figure at the funeral, but my memory of his face is shadowed.

I let out a breath. Being back in this situation would be utterly horrifying for Scott, too.

And, it occurs to me, perhaps the reason for Scott rejecting Josie involved more than just an age gap.

Scott untangles himself from Josie and walks over to give Janet a hug and an awkward handshake to David.

‘It’s been a long time, Scott,’ is all David says before going back to his trance.

‘It has, Scottie,’ Janet says. ‘Eight years, no?’

‘Mum, he’s a grown man.’ Josie rolls her eyes. ‘Call him Scott for God’s sake.’

The conversation seems tense but my attention is suddenly diverted back to the doors. They’re swinging open and I feel the blood rush in my ears again as I wonder if it’s the doctor.

Next thing I know, Mum is rushing at me and scoops me into a hug.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,’ she’s saying. ‘How’s Chloe? What have the doctors said?’ Questions tumble out of her. ‘Where is she? What happened?’

But it’s like listening to an untuned radio, the words muffled as if my brain is filled with static.

My feet feel spongy, knees weak. I cling to her, feeling like a child. I’m twenty-two but, right now, I wish I was eight again, being told everything is okay.

Nate follows Mum through but hangs back, hands in pockets. A woman in green has come in as well. The room is starting to feel overcrowded.

‘Chloe Smith’s family?’ She peers around.

Mum’s fingers are digging into my hand as she squeezes it. ‘Yes. I’m her mum.’

It’s only then this lady smiles. ‘Chloe’s going to be okay, but she’s had quite the scare.’

As the sound of the hustle and bustle ramps back up, I realise I’ve been frozen, kind of suspended. Mute on the side lines. Terrified to move. Waiting to hear those words.

‘You can go and see her in a minute. Broken glass from the collision caused a large wound in her thigh, and she lost a lot of blood. She’s had some transfusions and surgery, and she’ll probably need some physiotherapy … but she’s out of the woods.’

Mum crumples into the chair behind her. A sob escapes her and I snap back into caretaker mode.

‘Mum,’ I try to reassure, ‘she’s going to be okay.’

The doctor excuses herself and heads towards Josie’s group. ‘Jamie Clarke’s family?’ she asks. I hold my breath, waiting to hear more.

---