The motorway is almost empty. It starts to rain. Theo’s gone quiet in the back so I swivel round to check he’s all right. He’s fast asleep, a T-rex in each hand. I look closer just to check he’s still breathing. I don’t tell anyone I do this, but lately I’ve been checking an awful lot.
As we get nearer London, there’s more traffic. The roads sound hissy because of the rain. Just after 6 a.m., we pull up outside a huge old building with lights on at most of its windows. The hospital looks different at this time of day, like a hotel or a smart block of flats.
Mum lifts Theo from the car. He’s still asleep so thankfully there’s no tussle over dinosaurs; I ease the T-rexes out of his hands. The rest stay in the car along with the stuff I’d brought for Lexie’s. We enter the hospital through sliding doors, Mum with one arm hooked around Theo, the other pulling the little trolley thing that holds his oxygen. The doors close behind us. It’s bright and hot inside. There’s the hum of floor polishers and a smell of antiseptic and cooking mixed together. We go up to where a man sits almost hidden behind a desk.
‘Hello, we’re an emergency admission,’ Mum says. ‘The name’s Theo Campbell. Cheetah Ward.’
The man takes ages checking his screen. Mum shifts Theo onto her hip. I can tell she’s dead nervous. She catches my eye and winks, which is her way of asking if I’m okay. I try to smile back but my stomach’s churning. Suddenly Mum stares over the top of Theo’s head.
‘Oh my word. This must be her!’
I turn round to see a woman I don’t recognise in a long dark coat. She’s standing in the entrance. Behind her, the sliding doors keep opening and shutting.
Mum goes over. ‘Nell!’ she cries.
I follow. Up close, the woman looks old – not seriously old, but older than Mum. She’s very thin and tall, with grey hair in a plait over one shoulder. Pinned to her jacket is one of those Remembrance Day poppies. Then I notice her hands. They’re enormous, like a scarecrow’s. There’s dirt under her nails. She still hasn’t moved. The doors open-close open-close. Letting go of Theo’s trolley, Mum beckons her forward. At last the doors slide shut.
‘Thank you so much for coming at such short notice,’ Mum says. ‘I didn’t know who else to call.’
‘I suppose you tried David?’ the woman says.
My ears prick up because David is Dad’s name. Nearly three years ago he took a job designing houses made of wood, which meant moving to Devon. But Mum said she didn’t want to live somewhere that had more cows than people. If Dad wanted us to go with him, she said, then they should get married since they’d put it off for long enough. But instead of a proposal, there was shouting. In the end Dad went to Devon on his own.
‘I’ve left a message,’ Mum says. ‘But I expect he’s still asleep.’
The woman snorts. ‘There’ll be some excuse. There always is.’
I don’t like her saying this, not when we haven’t seen much of Dad lately. He’s been busy with work, so he says, and with his new baby daughter. Now I’m wondering if these are excuses too.
‘Nell, you remember Alice, my eldest?’ Mum says, a bit too brightly. I can tell she’s struggling to stay calm.
But the woman keeps staring at Mum. ‘It’s been a long time, Carrie – ten years, maybe?’
The woman keeps talking. She has a rich-sounding voice. No one in our family sounds like that – well, only Dad. It’s then I work out who she is. As my mouth drops open, Mum introduces us.
‘Alice, this is your grandmother from your father’s side. You’ve not seen her since you were little. But she’s going to look after you for a bit and we’re grateful, aren’t we?’
Grateful? The woman’s a total stranger! I don’t remember her at all. Leaning in to Mum, I hiss in her ear, ‘I’d be fine on my own. You know I would.’
‘Sorry, sweetie,’ Mum whispers back. ‘Nell’s all right really. Just do your best. You won’t be with her for long.’
‘Can’t I come with you? I won’t get in the way.’
Mum sighs. ‘Alice, we’ve been through this. There’s only accommodation here for me. It’s a busy ward. There’s no space for patients’ sisters.’
I bite my lip to stop it wobbling. Behind us, a phone rings. Deep inside her handbag, Mum’s emergency pager beeps. The man at the desk calls over.
‘Hello? They need you now. They’re ready for him in theatre.’
Instantly I feel bad for being pathetic. Theo groans in Mum’s arms and starts to wake up. He rubs his eyes then does his usual wet cough. Out of habit, I check his line. It’s fine. It’s always fine; the problem isn’t with the oxygen.
Mum puts her free arm around me. She smells of home. ‘I’ll phone you as soon as it’s over.’
‘When can I visit?’
‘In a day or so, hopefully.’
It’s all happening too quickly. I’m not ready to leave. Theo looks pale and sleepy, like a little animal nestled up against Mum.
‘Be brave, bro,’ I say, trying hard not to cry. ‘I’ll see you very soon.’
‘Promise, Alice?’ he says.
‘Promise.’
‘Really, really promise?’
‘With bells on.’
He sighs and shuts his eyes.
My stuff! I think suddenly. It’s still in the car. The man on reception is trying to hurry Mum. She looks flustered and almost drops Theo as she searches one-handedly for her keys. As usual, they’re right at the bottom of her bag. Her fingers shake as she hands them over.
‘I’ll leave them at the front desk,’ I say.
Backing away, Mum blows me a kiss.
‘Call you,’ she says.
By the time I’ve got my bags then dropped Mum’s keys at reception, there’s no sign of Nell in the hospital. Eventually I see her waiting for me on the opposite side of the street. She starts walking as soon as I join her.
‘Are we going straight home?’ I say.
‘Yes.’
I nod, relieved. At least I’ll be in my own house, in my own bed. And I’ll see Lexie later at school, which’ll help. We cross another street and go into a car park. She starts unlocking a car that looks even older than ours.
In the back seat something moves. It makes me jump.
‘You’re not scared of dogs, are you?’ Nell says.
I’m not. But this one’s massive. As Nell opens my door and I get in, I’m hit by the doggy smell.
‘He really is a dear thing,’ Nell says, reaching round to smooth the dog’s head.
‘But our house isn’t that big,’ I say. ‘And he’s … well … huge.’
Nell starts the car. ‘We’re not going to your house, Alice. You’re coming home with me, to my house. Didn’t your mother explain?’
‘No,’ I say, gritting my teeth. ‘She didn’t.’