‘Oh, baby,’ I murmur, brushing Luke’s hair away from his forehead as he fights back tears.
He’s still my ‘baby’, even if he is almost fifteen years old.
‘I can’t believe I’m going to be holed up for the rest of the summer,’ he says in a choked voice. ‘And I’m going to miss Angie’s party,’ he realises.
I suspect this fact hurts him even more than his broken ankle.
‘She’ll probably get off with Jake and that’ll be that, then,’ he adds bitterly.
I lean in and squeeze his shoulder. ‘Angela Rakesmith looks at you like the light shines out of your backside,’ I say pointedly. ‘You have nothing to worry about there.’
Despite himself, my son grins, but it’s quickly followed by a grimace.
‘Do you need more painkillers?’ I ask with concern, my hand halfway towards the button to call the nurse.
He shakes his head. ‘They make me feel sick.’
‘I’m sorry you’ll miss the party.’ I am genuinely sympathetic. Luke has been looking forward to it so much. ‘That sucks. But think of all of the attention you’ll get when you go back to school. The girls will be clambering over themselves to sign your cast. Angie will be jealous as hell.’
His bottom lip wobbles and he swallows rapidly, but there’s no holding back his tears of misery and frustration.
‘I had so many plans for this summer! How did I do this surfing?’ He slaps his hand on the bed.
‘It could’ve been worse.’ I shudder at the thought.
He rolls his eyes, putting a halt to the direction my thoughts were taking. ‘It could always be worse. That doesn’t make me feel better, Mum.’
‘I know it might not make a lot of sense right now, but one day…’ A shiver goes down my spine as I hear myself saying the words, ‘…maybe five years from now, you’ll look back and understand why this happened.’
‘No, I won’t,’ he retorts grumpily. ‘I’ll just think I was a stupid dick for inviting Jensen to come surfing with us.’
I cast my eyes heavenwards.
That’s how it happened. Luke’s friend Jensen got caught up in the rip current and Luke went after him. They hit the rocks on their way back in. Jensen face-planted on the reef and had to have three stitches on his eyebrow, but was otherwise unharmed. My son was less fortunate.
‘You’re right. You shouldn’t have invited him,’ I say. ‘None of you should have been surfing at Porthleven in those conditions, especially Jensen, who is way too inexperienced.’
Unlike Luke, who has been surfing almost every day since he was ten years old.
He bites his lip, knowing that he hasn’t heard the last of this.
‘But,’ I persist with making my point, despite his earlier dismissal, ‘maybe some good will come of this. Maybe, one day in the future, Jensen will think twice about surfing in similar conditions. Or you will. Or one of your friends will, and it might save their lives. Or perhaps there’s something else you’ll do this summer, someone you’ll meet who you wouldn’t have met otherwise, who’ll have an impact on your life. This may strengthen Angie’s feelings for you, or it may not – but at least you’ll know and won’t waste your time on her. All I’m saying is, although this feels like the worst thing ever right now, one day, you might look back and realise it happened for a reason. My dad once gave me that “five years from now” advice and I’ve never forgotten it.’
Luke takes a deep breath, his face creasing with pain.
‘Are you sure you don’t need more medication?’ I ask worriedly.
He shakes his head. ‘I’m fine. Just… take my mind off it. Please,’ he adds in a strained voice.
‘You want me to tell you a story?’ I flash him a hopeful smile.
‘As long as it’s not about Fudge and Smudge,’ he replies, chuckling and wincing in quick succession.
‘How dare you?’ I ask mockingly. ‘Fudge and Smudge are my greatest creations!’
Not strictly true and he knows it.
He grins at me. ‘You know I love them, really. So when did Grandad say that “five years” stuff to you?’
‘When I was your age, funnily enough. But I overheard someone say a similar thing a whole decade before that.’
‘When you were five? And you remember?’
I nod. ‘Ruth was a hard person to forget.’
‘Who was she?’
‘The love of your grandad’s life,’ I explain. ‘And she wasn’t Grandma,’ I add with a significant look.
‘What happened to her?’
‘Well, that’s a whole other story.’
He gives me a rueful look. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘All right, then,’ I say with a small smile. ‘I guess I’ll start at the beginning.’
Which, for me, was when I was five years old…