Tessa stood up and walked a few feet away, a wistful expression on her face. Behind her, a glowing white circle, that looked both huge and tiny, near and far, appeared.
She noticed it, a small smile on her face, then turned back to Josh: ‘Do you think he’ll be all right?’
‘He will,’ I said, sounding more confident than I felt. He had to be all right. There was no other option, not after everything that’d happened.
Branwen cawed ahead. We looked up to see her circling between the light and Tessa.
‘I always liked birds,’ she said. She put her arm out. Branwen flew over to her and landed on it. Well. Did that say more about the raven or about Tessa? I wasn’t sure.
‘She’s so beautiful,’ Tessa stroked her back. Branwen let her. Somehow, they’d formed an instant connection.
‘Her name is Branwen. It means “beautiful raven,” I think.’
Tessa laughed. ‘Of course.’
She shook her head, that wistful expression reappearing. ‘There was so much I wanted to do with my life. And I thought I could have a future with Josh. Maybe achieve some of those things with him by my side.’ Pausing, she gazed at him longingly, as if envisioning the life they could’ve had. The life she’d wanted but would never have, all because of something completely out of her control. As much as I hated her, it wasn’t fair. Even she deserved more than that. ‘Josh is a good guy. But he deserves better than what I could give him.’ She shook her head. ‘Thanks for your help. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.’ After flashing us a surprisingly friendly smile, she walked into the light.
*
I really wanted to curl up on the grass and sleep, but if I felt like that, Josh must’ve felt even worse. He was barely conscious.
So instead, Ben and Fadil went home, and we took Josh to A&E. He slowly woke up on the drive there, but he didn’t say anything in the car. I didn’t try to talk to him, either. Just thinking about what he might say made me anxious. I didn’t have the energy to listen to, let alone respond to, a potentially snarky remark.
A distraught Maggie was already waiting for us just outside the hospital doors when we got there. She ran to us, embracing Josh in her arms. ‘Oh my god!’
‘Ow,’ Josh cringed in his mum’s vice-like grip.
‘Sorry,’ she said, pulling away.
The two of them walked into the A&E department to check in.
Mum put her arm around my shoulders as we followed them. There was no way we were going home until we knew Josh really would be fine. He’d woken up, and was walking and talking, which were good signs, but I wasn’t sure if that was because he was fine to walk or he was being stubborn. It had been a long night, but it wasn’t over yet.
A&E was busy, with barely an empty seat in sight. Despite that, it was weirdly quiet. I supposed people were too injured, sick, or worried to talk much. An old TV was in the far corner, on a low volume, the closed captions unable to keep up with the live weather forecast.
Maggie and Josh stood at the reception desk, talking to a couple of nurses. Well, Josh was leaning on it, clearly in pain. Maggie held on to him, trying to keep him upright. One of the nurses pointed to a couple of vacant plastic chairs. Sighing, Maggie and Josh went and sat on them. Mum and I walked over.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked.
Josh stared at a spot on the dirty white lino floor, refusing to look at any of us. Even sitting so hunched over looked painful for him.
‘They don’t think Josh’s injuries are severe enough for us to be rushed through. So we’ve got to wait. Four hours,’ said Maggie.
‘What?’ I said, probably a little too loudly. But whatever. Four hours? Seriously?
Maggie sighed again. ‘That’s just what the wait is.’
‘Do you need me to sort Abigail for school in the morning?’ offered Mum. It was already past three in the morning, and a four-hour wait would mean that he was seen right as Abigail was waking up.
‘Thanks, but she was already in our bed when you called, so she heard the whole thing and insisted on coming too. Harry took her for a walk to get her a drink while we waited. She was getting jittery.’
‘Her big brother just got beaten up. Of course she’s on edge,’ I said.
Maggie nodded, putting her hand on Josh’s back.
He inhaled through his teeth. ‘Sorry. Sore.’
Maggie frowned, removing her hand from her son. ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘No, thanks,’ he replied.
‘Water would probably be good,’ said Mum.
He shrugged, as if to say whatever, still staring at the floor.
An internal door flung open. Abigail and Harry walked in. Abigail seemed bigger than the last time I’d seen her, even though it hadn’t been that long. But she was five. I blinked and missed a growth spurt. She ran to us and put her arms around my waist. I hugged her back. I’d missed her.
Harry didn’t share his daughter’s sentiment. ‘Of course you two are involved in this,’ he spat at Mum and me. A few people looked up from their phones or the books they’d been reading. This was probably the most interesting thing that’d happened all night. And of course we were at the centre of it.
‘Whoa there,’ said Mum, putting her hands up. ‘We’re in a hospital. Let’s keep things calm.’
‘Calm? My son is in A&E in the middle of the night because he was stupid enough to go out and let someone beat him up.’
Abigail, who was still holding on to me, tensed. I rubbed her shoulder, hoping it would offer her some comfort. Why was her dad being so aggressive in public? He wasn’t usually like that. He was all about keeping up appearances.
‘He didn’t let someone beat him up,’ I said. ‘It was a—’
‘Very aggressive person,’ Mum said, saving me from myself. Phew.
I almost blurted out ‘psychopathic ghost,’ before realising we had an ever-increasing audience.
A nurse on reception eyed us warily, both hands under the desk. From the angle of one of her arms, I was convinced her finger was hovering over a panic button, but I couldn’t be sure. Were they a thing in hospitals?
Ignoring us, Harry tilted his son’s head, forcing Josh to look at him. Josh flinched, clearly in pain, but Harry didn’t seem to care. ‘Look at the state of you. Don’t you know how to win a fight? Are you really that weak?’
Josh cringed, turning his head towards Maggie. Bruises were forming on his face, neck, and just about everywhere else that was visible. It looked painful.
‘Leave him alone. None of this is his fault,’ said Maggie.
Harry scoffed. ‘Of course it’s his fault! He’s the one who got himself beaten up!’
‘We’ll discuss this later. In private.’ Maggie glanced around the room. The people who’d been eavesdropping returned to whatever they’d been doing before the argument had kicked off, guilty expressions on their curious faces. I would’ve been annoyed at them, but I’d have done the same if someone else in the room had got into an argument.
Instead of replying verbally, Harry stormed off, leaving us, and probably the rest of the onlookers, speechless.